


Tumbleweed Dreams

by Elensule



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Historical, DCBB, Harlequin, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 12:36:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 65,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5048797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elensule/pseuds/Elensule
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester will never be the perfect HouseOmega his father wishes he would be.  He’s  destined to be the arm candy of one of the wealthy Alphas his father is procuring for him.  Answering an advertisement from a widowed Alpha looking for an Omega to be his mate and to help raise his pups out West may be the riskiest thing Dean’s ever done.  But for the chance to be free of the constraints put upon him by his father and city society, it would be worth it!  </p><p>Go West young man really meant something now that the railways were laying track and steamers could make it up the Missouri.  At the end of an arduous journey Dean’s excited to meet his intended.  But, Castiel Novak is not the man he was in his letters.  He seems to be one of the most reserved Alphas Dean has ever met.  Will he be able to crack his new Alpha’s shell?  Or has he just traded one societal prison for another?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which Dean is Stubborn and Castiel is Hopeful

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! 
> 
> This is my first Big Bang challenge, and it was a lot of fun!
> 
> I want to especially thank Lisa, my Beta, who takes such good care of me and also does not cut me any slack! This story would not be half of what it is if it were not for her and her tireless editing and (and poking me with sharp sticks so I do my rewrites).
> 
> Also a big shout out to my artist, Uke Sama Sensei, who did all the art and the banner for this fic. I really appreciate all the effort that went into it, especially when she was super busy! You can see her art here http://uke-sama-sensei.livejournal.com/7501.html at her masterpost. Please, go check it out! 
> 
> And last of all, thanks to you all for reading. It means a lot to know people are enjoying my fic! So glad to have all the support from all my readers. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Dare

**Chapter One: In Which Dean is Stubborn and Castiel is Hopeful**

  


_Dear Mr. Novak,_

_Your application has been received. Your advertisement will run in the Spring quarter's printing of_ Hearths and Homes _. For your records, your advertisement will read:_

__**Alpha, male, widowed, aged 30, two pups, 3 years old and 6 mos. Seeks male Omega between 20-25 for conversation and companionship and ultimately matrimony. Must be of good moral standard, in good health, and have strong parental instincts.** _  
Thank you for your business and best of luck in your romantic endeavors._

Cas set the letter down on the table when the baby started to wail. “I simply do not believe this is a sound idea, Gabe,” he said, crossing to the bassinet and lifting Claire into his arms. “Shh... Shh...” He soothed her gently, rocking her back and forth until she fell into a sniffling silence again.

“You, my dearest brother, need to loosen your stays.” Gabriel sighed, reaching to finger the edge of the letter. “Your love for Amelia is certainly not in question. She was an admirable mother, missed by all. But,” he met his brother's eyes challengingly. “You simply cannot raise your children alone! Of course you know your family will continue to assist however we can, but children need, nay, require an Omega as well!” He sighed, shaking his head. “ And you, too, will be more stable, more settled. It is simply the natural order of things.”

Cas sighed, kissing his daughter's cheek and carefully placing her back down in the bassinet. “I know. I know. I don't want to snap at the children, and I feel my temper growing shorter every day.” He shook his head as he rejoined his brother at the table and picked up his mug of tea. “But it just feels so... mechanical.”

“I understand, of course.” Gabe shook his head. “You cannot smell him, cannot see him; it is so much more difficult to judge compatibility! But please, don't forget that mama and father were an arranged union, and they certainly flourished. And you've had a hand in choosing your bride!”

“It's much deeper than that, Gabriel. What if he comes and he doesn't like the children? If he doesn't like the children then our union could never flourish.” His gaze drifted over to the pallet where Benjamin rested, the little boy taking to his nap much more smoothly than his little sister.

“Of course it couldn't. Those children are your lifeblood, I know that.. Still! You indicated in your ad that your ideal partner has strong parental instincts, didn't you,” Gabriel waited for Cas' reluctant nod before he took a swig of his tea and lifted his mug in salute. “See? You've already solved that problem! Why would they respond if they don't want children?”

Cas stood up, shaking his head. “It just all seems too soon,” he said. “I know I could come live at home, but the children... They like the house, and the space.” He smiled wistfully. “Well, Ben does. I suppose Claire is too young to worry about that at all.” He crossed to the fireplace and stirred the pot of stew that was their dinner. “And I suppose I really... I don't want to leave here yet.”

“Hey, Cassy, I understand.” Gabe smiled as he stood up as well, crossing to hug his little brother close. “Give yourself time. As it stands, your advertisement does not even publish until next quarter. Anyone who answers you will certainly want time to get to know you. I'm sure you have until summer to get yourself in order.”

“You're right, of course.” Castiel smiled and shook his head. “I suppose I'm just nervous. Courting this soon after Amelia... I... I hadn't thought to do that ever again.”

Gabe nodded again, sober now. “I know,” he said as he stepped back. “But you've pups to be considering, brother. They need an Omega around. Even if they're not the best mate for you, I know you'll pick one who'll be a good parent to your pups.” He clapped Cas on the shoulder. “Now, I really must be going, I told mama I'd be home in time to help her water the horses.” He picked up the basket of eggs and cheese sitting by the door, that Cas had put together to send home with him. “I'll see you in a few days time, alright?”

“Yes, that sounds fine. Be safe, Gabriel.”

His brother flashed him a roguish grin. “Aren't I always?”

Cas chuckled, but before he could formulate a response, Gabe was gone. The door dropped shut behind him, and Cas moved to make sure both children remained asleep before returning to the more mundane chores of setting up dinner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ugh. Sammy, can you not get this _off_ for me?” Dean tugged at the cravat around his neck; it was too tight, and itchy, but Sam just laughed.

“Dean, you know that I cannot... You know mama said you could wear your gray shirt with the embroidery, but you refused. So now you're stuck with this.” The young Alpha didn't seem to have any problems with _his_ attire, as at ease in a waistcoat and tie as he was in his shirtsleeves in the garden at home.

Dean pulled a face and reluctantly dropped his hand and raising his head so that Sam could adjust his cravat, loosening it a little bit. “That would be even worse,'” he said, wrinkling his nose. “Whenever I wear that shirt, it feels as though I ought to be wearing a corset. It's so tight!” He shuddered.

He looked longingly at the deep red of Sammy's shirt. His own powder blue one he hadn't yet had a chance to personalize, so it was simply pastel; much too pretty for his taste. Still, it was better than the gray one. That one always made him feel like he ought to be wearing a skirt with it, it was so fitted. He hadn't worn a dress since he was seven. He'd been the last of his friends out of a skirt, and _that_ had chafed, but John was very much a traditionalist. Dean had always hated dresses, the way they tangled around things and made it _impossible_ to climb the trees in the garden. He'd been thrilled when father said he didn't need to wear them anymore, that he looked enough like a man that he might as well dress like one. He'd gladly take pastels any day, as long as they were over _trousers_.

Sammy _always_ got to wear trousers, but Dean could remember how _freeing_ it was the first time that he stepped into a pair. “Do I have to go out there?” The sound of the music swelled up, and Sam wrapped an arm around his waist.

“Yes, Dean, you do. Father thinks it'll be good for you to meet some people, dance a little bit.” He sighed. “You know he worries about you. He just wants you to be happy! And the longer you're unmarried, the more people will talk.”

“I don't _care_. I'll wait in the carriage,” Dean said stubbornly, but he let Sam take his hand and guide him down from the carriage anyway. “Is Jess going to be here?”

Sam nodded, smiling, glad his brother was acquiescing. “Yes, she and her brother are coming. I'll introduce you. I think you might truly like Taylor. He's a good man, a good Alpha.”

“I don't think so,” Dean said as they moved up the gravel path to the house where Alpha Smith was hosting the Vernal Equinox party. “You know I'm not ready for that, Sammy. Regardless of what father says, I'm not meant for this life.”

Sam sighed as he knocked on the door. “I wish you'd just... Try, Dean,” he said wistfully. “You don't exactly have many more options, after all.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dean, please reconsider!” He shook his head as Kevin leaned across the table. “It will be wonderful! We'll have delicious food, and dancing... It will not be like the Vernal dance.” Kevin wrinkled up his nose. “All the Alphas will be of an age with us, and my cousin says he can get us some wine. Please say you'll come.”

Dean sighed, taking a sip of his tea. He glanced across the street at the dressmaker's shop where Mary was getting fitted with Mrs. Tran for their newest summer fashions. “I really don't think I'll be able to secure permission from my father.”

Kevin snorted indelicately. “So? Sneak out! I know you know how to do that, Winchester,” he said tauntingly. “I thought you weren't going to be some kind of whinging houseomega. Show some constitution!”

Dean flushed and took another swallow, narrowing his eyes at Kevin. “Fine! Just, keep your voice down, Tran...” He huffed out a sigh. “I know you wouldn't be speaking so recklessly, nor with such abandon, if it were _you_ who had to be sneaking about.”

“Yes, well.” Kevin had the grace to be discomfited for a moment. “I don't need to sneak, because mother will be departing as soon as the fitting is finished, to spend the weekend with her sister. So look, come to my house about eight and we'll go out together.”

“Fine,” Dean said again, setting down his cup and standing up. “Now if you'll excuse me, I see my mother coming, it's time to go.” He sent a flirty smile to the young Omega standing behind the counter, gratified to see her blush. It was so much easier to flirt with other Omegas; there were no expectations there.

That night, Dean volunteered to help with the dishes after dinner. He bid his goodnight to Alpha Singer and his parents, and went into the kitchen to rush through the washing, one ear on the dining room until he heard his father and Alpha Singer retire to the study for brandy and cigars. His heart pounded as he slipped out of the house.

He hurried down the street, relieved to find Kevin waiting for him next to the door. “Well, Dean,” he said as he stepped off his porch. “You've certainly perfected the art of waiting to the last minute. Come on, I've got a carriage waiting.”

Dean tapped his toe anxiously as the carriage started to move. “I had to wait for the Alphas to retire to the study, but otherwise my escape was smooth, straightforward.” He said, his shoulders hunched a little after Kevin shot him a questioning look. “But I do not think my return has even the slightest hope of being that smooth. Why the hell did I let you talk me into this?”

“Oh, do be quiet, Dean,” Kevin said, kicking Dean's ankle. “You never used to be this worried about your father.”

“Well, that was before he started trying to marry me off to the highest bidder,” Dean said bitterly. “You simply cannot ignore the needs of your _reputation_. And heaven forbid you miss a whisper on a street corner, you know?” He reached down, tightening the buckle on his shoe. “Goddamn it. I don't know why I can't just have a stupid... _lace_.”

Kevin laughed. “You know what, Dean? You need to get drunk. Don't worry. After tonight, you'll feel a lot better.”

“So you say,” Dean said, though he couldn't deny that it would be good to unwind a little bit. Things were so tense at home since Sammy moved out, and John realized that Dean might end up an old maid. Not that _Dean_ cared about that, but it was enough of a theme at home to really make life difficult. They pulled up to an unfamiliar house, and Kevin grinned.

“You'll like Alastair's,” he said as he climbed out. Music and laughter could be heard from the yard, and Dean took a deep breath.

“I most certainly hope so. I definitely could use a drink.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean stumbled back in through the kitchen door several hours later. His footsteps sounded overly loud to his ears, no matter how carefully he stepped. The creak of the door may as well have been the shriek of a banshee. He took a deep breath in and out, to steady himself, and then began to tiptoe through the kitchen as quietly as possible. The house was asleep, and he wanted to keep it that way.

He led through the door with his right side, and thus nearly jumped from his skin when a candle was lit suddenly to his left. He spun around, nearly tripping on his own feet, only to see John sitting in one of the tall dining chairs.

“Where on God's green Earth have you _been_ , Dean?” John's voice was low and deadly, as it always was when he was upset. “Your mother and I have been worried _sick_ about you!”

Dean's heart was pounding, but he drew himself up and spoke as clearly as he could muster. “I was out. I didn't hurt anything!”

“Didn't hurt...” John spluttered. “What about your reputation? What about _ours?_ ”

“Father, it's _fine_ ,” Dean persisted, frowning. “It's fine. I certainly did nothing wrong, merely had a few drinks with some friends! Nothing to damage your precious _reputation_.” He sneered the word. How he hated being bound by it!

“Yes? And were all these _friends_ Omegas, like yourself? Or were there Alphas there? Were you chaperoned appropriately?”

Dean glowered. “We were _friends_ , having a few drinks, playing a few games! That's it, nothing else happened!”

“Yes, but something _could have_. Oh, Dean... I just wish sometimes that you would _think_. How am I ever to find you a spouse if you persist in making yourself out to be... An Omega of easy virtue!”

Dean's flush deepened again, hurt running through his chest. “I'm not sure,” he answered stiffly, the fog of drink lifting a little as he bit back an angry retort. “But perhaps you should give it up. Any Alpha who would trust whispers in the corners over my word is no Alpha I'd want to marry!”

With that he spun on his heel, stumbling only slightly, and headed for the stairs. He ignored his father's shouts behind him, and the small sounds he could hear in his parent's bedroom. No doubt his mother waking, to see what the fuss was about. He shut the door to his room just a hair below a slam and leaned against it, chest heaving. _I've got to get out of here..._ He thought desperately, thoughts spinning. _This place is driving me mad!_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A soft knock startled Dean out of his embroidery, and he looked up at the door. Mary stood there, smiling warmly. “Dean, will you join me in the kitchen, please?”

She was wearing an apron, already dusted with flour, and Dean set aside his shirt so he could stand. Mary baking usually meant only one thing: pie. “Of course, mama,” he said, though he knew that this wouldn't be as relaxing as cooking with his mother usually was.

Mary kept her own counsel until they reached the kitchen. She handed Dean an apron wordlessly, and then pointed at the pile of berries needing to be cut up and washed. She waited until Dean was engrossed in his task before she spoke. She didn't look at him, but kept measuring flour into a bowl. “You know your father was only worried last night,” she said, her voice low and smooth. “He was quite surprised when he went up to your room to see if you wanted to join the other men to see that your room was empty.”

Dean looked up in surprise. “He was going to ask me to join them?” That never happened; his father firmly believe in 'Alpha talk', and rarely invited Dean to participate.

“Yes, he was.” Mary kept her voice censure free. “Alpha Singer wanted to speak with you about introducing you to his nephew... He feels that the two of you would be very compatible.”

“Ugh. Mama, please, not you too...” He cut the tops off of a few more berries and dropped them in the bowl. “I don't _want_ to meet Alpha Singer's nephew, or any of these other Alphas.”

“So you keep saying, Dean,” Mary said, sighing as she began to chop cold butter and drop it into the flour and salt she'd measured. “But I don't understand _why_. He's a good man, and he would most certainly provide a good life for you.”

“There's more to living than a big house and lots of servants, mama,” He sighed, wishing he had a way to explain that people would understand. “I simply wish I could live my life. That's all. I want to find someone who wants me for me, not for the Winchester name. Is that so much to ask, mama?”

Mary shook her head. “Oh, my sweet boy.” Her voice was sad. “I know you wish life was different, but.. We have the life that we are born to. What is so wrong with meeting Alpha Singer's nephew?”

“It feels like I hear that same thing all the time,” he said, frowning. He cleared his throat once, swallowing hard and cutting more berries. “But I simply know I will not be happy like that mama,” he said sadly. “I'll always feel trapped here, like a bird in a cage. Does it matter how the bars are gilded, if they're still locked?”

“Dean, I know you're reluctant to marry, but please consider that you aren't getting any younger. It's going to be harder to find a match the older you get... And consider how much more control you will have once you're married.” She smiled as she turned the dough out on the counter, kneading it a few more times before reaching for her rolling pin.

“If fortune smiles on me,” Dean said bitterly as he rinsed the berries. He scraped a tiny bit of sugar off their pyramid and sprinkled it over the berries, tossing them in the bowl and setting it down by Mary, before going to find the pie plate. “But I don't want to embroider shirts and order servants for the rest of my life, mama.”

Mary smiled at him as she lifted the rolled dough and set it on top of the pan, pressing in in with her fingers. “Oh, Dean. Who's to say that has to be your life? I wish you would at least meet Alpha Singer's nephew. After the Solstice dance and now this party, I'm certain that you have met many eligible Alphas. But if you would only _talk_ to them...” She trailed off, remembering all the calling cards Dean had dropped into the fire without even reading in the last month.

“They _bore_ me,” Dean said, pouring his berries into the pan and smoothing them out. Mary dotted it with butter, and trimmed the crust from the edges, letting Dean take it and roll it out again. “Not one of them can have a decent conversation, and most of them forget I'm not a _girl_. Mama, I can't marry someone looking for a prize.” He began to cut the dough into little pieces, carefully beginning to layer them onto the pie until he'd worked a little tree and leaves as the top crust. Then he washed his hands, looking over to see that Mary had already wiped down the counter and was taking the pie to put in the oven.

“I love you, mama,” he said, kissing her cheek when she turned back to him. “I'm sorry. I'll try harder.” He smiled sadly and pulled the apron over his head, hanging it on the hook on his way out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dean! Have you found everything you require?”

Dean set his basket on the counter, heaped full of fresh fruits and vegetables. “I believe so,” he said. smiling. “Your peppers look divine this week, Alfie.” he gently pushed the basket across to the Omega behind the counter.

“Oh, yes, they just came in... Aren't they lovely?” The young man took the basket and began to weigh the peppers, along with the little baskets of berries, apples, and a good bunch of asparagus. “I hear good things about the strawberries this week, too. Very sweet.”

“Perfect.” Dean grinned. “I'm making a trifle for dinner tonight, so I was hoping they'd be sweet. It may be just a little early in the season but they just looked so juicy, I couldn't help myself.” He leaned on the counter, and glanced around to be sure they were alone. “Did you happen to get any mail for me?”

Alfie grinned; he reached under the counter and pulled out a small folded booklet. “Like this, perhaps?” He wrapped it deftly in a scrap of brown paper and tucked it into the bottom of the basket. “I've no idea what you're talking about, Mr. Winchester. Now. Your total is two dollars even.”

Dean nodded. “Put it on my tab, Alfie, we'll be paying out at the end of the month, as usual.” His meager tab, after all, was hardly a dent in what the Winchester household used on a monthly basis.

“Of course, Mr. Winchester. You have yourself a good day now.” He winked, and Dean flushed slightly.

Dean hefted his basket and nodded at Alfie. “And you,” he said agreeably, moving toward the door. He tried to hide how excited he was about the prospect of getting to read this quarter's _Hearths and Homes._

His father was getting antsy; at twenty three, Dean was nearly an old maid. John made comments more regularly than Dean would like about “introducing him to a suitable Alpha.” It had only increased since the party Kevin Tran had... convinced him to attend. The subsequent whispers were driving his father up the wall, Dean knew.

Dean shook his head as he stepped into the cool spring sunshine. If it were up to John, he'd be courting already. But Dean didn't want to be a houseomega like his mother, though Mary was wonderful at what she did. The thought of staying in the city for the rest of his life was enough to make his skin crawl. He itched to be out _doing_ something useful. He'd wanted to go West when the train lines were first laid, but John had been very firm in his refusal.

“That countryside's no place for an unmarried, unmated Omega,” he'd said firmly, leaving Dean to scramble for another plan. The answer had been provided by Alfie, though he'd certainly never tell his family about it.

 _Hearths and Homes_ was released once a quarter, and it was dedicated to meeting your match. Alphas sent in an ad, and Omegas could answer them; it was supposed to lead to love and marriage. Dean wasn't so sure about that, but it _might_. He could hope that he'd meet someone who would let him work with his hands, wouldn't expect him to be content to sit all day and do nothing.

Dean hadn't believed it, the first time he laid eyes on the little newsletter. Unfortunately, the one at the start of the winter was a dud. None of the Alphas in it had seemed interesting at all, and Dean knew he wasn't as much a catch as John thought he was. Oh, he was in good health now, but the mumps he'd had at twelve had left him sterile, and who wants a sterile Omega? So he knew it would take some time to find someone who'd want him... If time was something he had.

“Oh, Dean, you're back.” Sam's voice startled him out of his reverie as he walked in through the front door.

“Hello, Sammy.” Dean forced a grin, though really, his brother being over meant that much longer before he could escape to his room to read his newsletter. Sometimes it really did gall that Sammy was out, living on his own, courting his lady, Jess, while Dean had to remain at home. Simply because he wasn't married was no reason he couldn't manage his own apartment in town! “What brings you over? Weren't you here last night?”

“Why, Dean, it almost sounds as though you aren't happy to see me.” Sam chuckled, and then darted a hand into Dean's basket, stealing a bright strawberry. “Mm... Delicious,” he said as he bit into it.

“Hey! Keep your dirty fingers to yourself, and away from my berries, Sam, they're for dessert.” He narrowed his eyes and moved his basket protectively closer to him. “Anyway, you didn't answer my question. Of course I'm glad to see you! But it is not like you to visit two evenings in a row.”

Sam shrugged. “Jess was busy tonight, and I figured that I might as well come here...I much prefer your sterling company to sitting home alone... Well, I think that I do anyway.” He grinned when Dean swatted his shoulder, then continued. “And father told me he would be available tonight to help me with some paperwork I have.”

“Oh, well, that's quite advantageous,” Dean said, even as he pushed down his frustration. He didn't _want_ Sam there; that always meant lingering over dinner, lingering over coffee. It would surely be _hours_ before he could escape and peruse _Hearths and Homes_ , and now that he had it, the anticipation itched under his skin.

“It certainly is.” Sam grinned, and wrapped an arm around Dean's shoulders. “Come on. I'll help you put away that fruit.”

Dean let himself be led to the kitchen. “Here.” He shoved the asparagus and the peppers at Sam, giving a mock growl. “Make yourself useful. I've got to get this trifle started if it's going to have time to set before dinner.”

“Ooh, you're making your strawberry trifle?” Sam grinned broadly, heading over to the cellar entry so he could put the vegetables in the chill.

Dean nodded, going over to the ice box and pulling out the cream and some eggs. “The berries simply looked too perfect to pass up, and it has been much too long since I've had a trifle.” He worked methodically, settling everything on the counters until suddenly he heard a rustle of paper.

“What's this, Dean?”

He spun in a panic, but it was too late. _”Hearths and Homes_ Dean? Really?” He was clearly baffled by his brother's choice. “I thought... Wasn't father planning that big dinner to introduce you to Alpha Singer's nephew this weekend?”

Dean snatched the pamphlet from Sam's hands, tucking it into his shirt. “Yes, he is. But I'm not interested in Alpha Singer _or_ his nephew, Sam. This city is driving me mad!”

“Don't be so dramatic, Dean,” Sam said, though he didn't try to get the pamphlet back. “But what are you going to do? Just... leave? To get on a train, and join yourself in _holy matrimony_ to a stranger?”

“It's not that simple, Sam,” Dean said, sighing and shaking his head. “And it isn't as though I am going to get on a train tomorrow. We'll talk first, if there's a suitable Alpha there. With letters. And we don't have to get married right away. When I get there, we can wait a while first, get to know one another.”

Sam's eyes grew wide, scandalized. “You'd live with an Alpha? You'd have a marriage bed without saying your vows? Dean!”

“What, Sammy?” Dean scowled at his brother, and turned away to begin to work on the trifle. “It isn't as though I can be blessed to be with child. My womb is as dry as a bone. Nothing will happen. Now, either help me here or go wait in the study, I have things to do.” Dean liked talking to Sam, trusted his brother with his life, but he couldn't talk about this. Not yet.

Sam heaved a sigh, but then rolled up his sleeves. “What do you need me to do?” And just like that, they were kids again, Dean giving the orders and Sam following them. The natural order of things.

The kitchen came to life around them while they worked, and by the time they'd put the trifle in the ice box to chill, the cook was working on dinner. “I'll see you soon, Sammy,” Dean said as he rinsed his hands. “I need to go and change my clothing for dinner... You know how father is about propriety.” He needed to hide his newsletter before John could see it, after all.

Sam just shrugged, heading out of the room. He let Dean go without complaint, since he knew that ultimately Dean would come to him for advice. That was just how they worked, the two of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner took _forever_ , and of course they lingered over dessert, talking and laughing. Normally, Dean would have enjoyed preening over his trifle, but today he was itching to get up to his room. Finally alone, Dean lit his lamp and settled at his desk. He flipped the cover of the newsletter, trailing his fingers over almost reverently.

The first ad was a woman; Dean passed that up right away. Alpha females just didn't do it for him most of the time, and if he was going to tie himself to someone, he wanted it to be someone he could see himself happy with for the long haul. Wasn't that the point of all this?

He skimmed the next two; both were men in their forties, and Dean didn't think he could handle that big of an age gap. Both ads specified they wanted someone to build a family with, and that was the last nail in the coffin. Dean wasn't setting himself up for failure like that. No matter how his heart ached for pups, he'd known since he was of bearing age that they weren't for him. Mary might have been gentle about explaining, but the mumps had stolen that dream from him before he even knew to dream it.

He was just about to give up hope; no better prospects than last quarter, when his eyes skimmed ahead a few ads and stopped. **Alpha, male, widowed, aged 30, two children, 3 years old and 6 mos. Seeks male Omega between 20-25 for conversation and companionship and ultimately matrimony. Must be of good moral standard, in good health, and have strong parental instincts.**

His breath caught. At thirty, the Alpha only had a few years on him, and widowed meant he knew what it was to be married. The ad was simple, as they all were, but something about the phrasing caught his attention. Looking for conversation and companionship? Dean wasn't really one for long talks, but that was mostly because so many Alphas in the city bored him to death. He and Sammy used to talk for hours, though, talking about all kinds of things. What would this Alpha want to talk about, he wondered. Crops and the like? Or was it too much to expect that he be a little educated as well, and be able to talk about music or literature?

His mind wandered at the thought of this Alpha, hypothetical and perfect; it was impossible that he actually existed. Really, it was the children that ensnared him. Widowed, with two babes? Dean's heart broke for them. He remembered when he was small, and Mary had been so very ill after birthing Sam. He hadn't known, then, that she was in danger of dying, but it had still been so terrifying. To not see her, and to have her scent soured by sick. How were those pups handling it? How was their father?

Almost before he'd had a chance to consider, his fingers were reaching into his desk drawer and pulling a sheet of paper. His hand didn't shake at all as he dipped his pen and pressed the nib to the paper. No, now he was sure. He didn't know who this alpha was, but something told him that maybe this could be okay.

_Salutations,_

_My name is Dean_ …


	2. In Which an Exchange and Changes are Made

**Chapter Two: In Which an Exchange and Changes are Made**

  


_**February 5, 1893** _

_Salutations,_

_My name is Dean._

_I live in New York with my mother and father and my younger brother, Sam. Damnation, but, I've never been good at these types of missives, all polite words and perfect gestures. I suppose you know I'm an Omega, that's the point of this whole endeavor, is it not? From your advertisement, It seems like you may be someone I would enjoy getting to know._

_I'm looking for someone intelligent, well spoken, and you've said you're looking for companionship and conversation. Perhaps we could be well matched? I must confess, I was also rather taken with the mention of your children; it would be most pleasant to meet them. Family is first in my heart, and I've been dreaming of one of my own for a long time. I anxiously await your favorable response to my letter…_

“Dean, I can't believe you're actually doing this.” Sam leaned against the wall as Dean began to fold clothes and set them into his trunk. “What did mama say?”

“I haven't told her yet,” Dean said, taking a moment to shoot a glare at his brother. “And that means that you need to hold your tongue as well. I'll tell her... Before I leave for the station.”

“What?” Sam straightened up. “Dean, that's not fair! This is going to break her heart! How can you stay your tongue this long?”

“Sammy.” Dean turned, meeting Sam's eyes straight on. “Sam. I know this is going to be most difficult for her. Do you think I'm untouched by it? But... If I tell her, she'll _have_ to tell father, and without a doubt he will forbid me from going.” He swallowed, and straightened his shoulders. “This life is _killing_ me, Sam. I can't stay here. I swear to you on grandmama's grave I'm not being dramatic. I simply cannot do it. I need clean air, and wide spaces, and to be able to get my hands dirty.”

He turned back to folding his clothes, resolute. “Father departs for Chicago at the end of the month. Cas sent me the money for a ticket; he is as eager to have me as I am to be there. So I'm going to go.”

“I just... I don't understand, Dean.” Sam crossed the room and dropped onto the bed. “What is so deplorable about living here? You've clean clothes, a big kitchen, whomever you choose to marry will undoubtedly be well off... ” He watched as Dean kept packing, folding shirts, pants, rolling socks and tucking them into the corners of the trunk. “Instead of taking that bounty, you're willing to travel, _alone_ across the country, to marry some stranger, just, what, to prove something to father?”

“No!” Dean moved over to his desk, starting to pull things out of the drawers. “It's not about him, Sam, it's about me. I can't... It _kills_ me to be inside all the time. To just... stagnate here. I need to be moving, to be doing something.”

“And? Mama stays busy all the time; she manages the house and the servants... Couldn't you keep yourself busy similarly?”

“It's not the same, Sam, and you know it. Mama _directs_ , and I want to _do_.” He sighed, leaning on the desk so he could look at Sam again. “And I want a family, Sam. Children. And... I can't have them. You know I can't.”

The mumps had been the most terrifying thing in his life. They'd thought it was a run of the mill infection, like Sammy's, but the fever just kept climbing. It got worse and worse, until Dean was taken to his bed. He remembered very little of that. At sixteen, young and scared, after waking up from nearly a week raving and weak, the doctor had informed him that he would likely never bear children; his testicles, already small due to his gender, had shrunk even smaller. That was a good indication, according to the doctor, that his fertility had been destroyed by the disease.

“You don't know that,” Sam said, shaking his head. “The doctor said it was _likely_ that you would be sterile; you won't know until you are married and trying for pups. Would you truly throw your life away, living in some backwater and raising the pups of a _stranger_ simply because of your fears? It's foolishness, Dean!”

“Everyone knows that boys who shrink... They can't. Okay, Sammy? I've come to terms with it. But He's...” A small, dreamy smile touched his lips at the thought of the Alpha. He'd proven himself a good conversationalist, as promised, and each letter buoyed Dean's spirits for a week. “He is a good man, Sam. A brave man, seeking a better life for his family. He is still heartbroken over the loss of his wife, but is ready to welcome another into his home.” He shook his head. “And his pups require an Omega. Truly, he's floundering. It's not good for an Alpha to raise pups all by themselves.”

“I understand that,” Sam said, drawing in a deep breath. “But why must it be _you_ Dean?” Sammy's voice tread dangerously close to whining. “I don't want to lose you. How do you know you'll ever come back?”

Dean smiled faintly, stepping forward to pull his brother into a hug. “We don't,” he said honestly. “But there's letters, the post is working better than ever. And you can always come to visit me. I'm sure a high falutin' lawyer like you will be able to afford the train, when it's done. It was kind of a stretch for him to send me the money for this ticket, so I don't know that I'll be able to come visit you any time soon.” Dean had wanted to pay his own way, but Cas had insisted. Dean had been saving his money, instead, so that he'd be able to pay for meals on the trip. Really, that was all his allowance would account for, anyway, at least for the short time he had to save.

“I don't like it,” Sam said, his voice muffled against Dean's shoulder, before he finally pulled away. “But I suppose that I understand. If this is what you need, I'll support you... Heaven knows how very much I'll be missing you, though.” He swallowed hard, straightening up. “So. What can I do to help you pack?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

__  
**March 4, 1893**  


_Dear Dean,_

_It is delightful to hear from you. My full name is Castiel, but my family calls me Cas. I hail from Philadelphia, and I moved out here five years ago. I have a small farm, where I raise some steer. My family runs the inn in town, and my brother Michael has the general store. It's a nice town, but even with my family so close, I've missed having a partner. I look forward to getting to know you. I hope, perhaps, there is a place for you here..._

“Well, Castiel... This is a change. Why are you remodeling?” Michael stood behind Cas' house, leaning against the wall as he watched his brother sawing boards with a vengeance.

Cas didn't break pace as he stacked the fallen wood to the side. “I am certain that I told you I am to be wed, Michael.” He glanced up at his brother, but returned immediately to his work. “Dean is coming soon, and I know there will not be a great deal of privacy for him. So I thought, perhaps, if I put in a loft that he would have a space for himself.”

“This seems like a large effort for a stranger, Castiel,” Michael said, though he did straighten up and head over to see what he could do to help. “You are pinning your hopes on some letters and a chance to fill the hole Amelia’s passing has left. What if it comes to pass that you and Dean are not compatible after all? Would it not make more sense to wait?” He stacked some tools out of the way, to clear a path, but kept his eyes on Castiel. “I know Gabriel has told you that this is a foolproof plan, but it is far from it. You should be certain that you will be married before you make such changes to your home.”

Cas narrowed his eyes at his brother. “Michael, we are to be wed; Dean has agreed... But even so, I need to woo him.” He shook his head. “We have not had a traditional courtship, no, but he deserves courting gifts.” He nodded to the wood. “I can give him a den, even in a strange place, somewhere that is only for him, somewhere safe and warm. And even if Dean decides that we are not going to be married,” he offered that as a concession to Michael’s piercing gaze, “it will do me good to have space. The children will not be small forever.”

“Well... I suppose that's true enough.” Michael rolled up his sleeves and started to carry the pieces of wood Cas had cut toward the house. “I suppose I will help you... But only for the children, understand?”

Castiel snorted indelicately. “Yes, well. Thank you.” He kept sawing, wanting to get the floorboards set before he finished for the night. Michael was a steady presence at his shoulder, occasionally helping hold a board down, mostly toting and carrying. That was what Cas liked about his brother the most; for all that he could be high and mighty, set in his ways, he knew when silent acceptance was what was needed. He would stand behind Castiel, knowing his decision had been made, and do what he could to make him successful. True, his courtship with Dean might not be the most traditional, but he was _determined_ to woo the Omega. If he was to have Dean, it would be wholly, and truly, as a good husband did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

__  
**April 9, 1893**  


_Dear Castiel,_

_It has been quiet here lately. Sam, that's my younger brother, he moved out a few months ago. It's been quite strange not having him around. I am the eldest, so growing up it was always “Dean, watch your brother. Dean don't let your brother do that. Dean, you're supposed to be a good example.”_

_Now he's not here and suddenly it is as though I don't know how to fill my hours without him. We were troublemakers, as brothers are, but we always resolved it together, as well. Now he's courting a girl named Jess across town. She's a real sweetheart, and smart as a whip. Out of his league, really. And me? I suppose I'm considering moving across the world to join myself in marriage to a stranger. Not that you're really a stranger anymore, exactly. It's just... remarkable. I suppose we won't be getting into trouble together anymore..._

“So father leaves in the morning.” Sam leaned on the door frame. “He will be gone for a week. I suppose you're leaving in the afternoon? When are you going to tell mama?”

Dean startled, looking up from the book he was reading, putting it aside and shaking his head. “Why do you always do that, Sammy?” He narrowed his eyes at his brother and huffed in annoyance. “Must you always sneak up on me? And... No; my ticket is for Wednesday. I won't tell her until then. Why would I purposely upset her, and give her more time to try to convince me not to go?”

Sam looked suitably chastened, but he just shook his head at his brother's rationale. “You know she's going to be upset, and she's going to try to talk you out of it anyway.”

“Yes well. My ticket is for Wednesday, and she can try to convince me not to go before I get in the carriage. But I'm _going_ , Sam. I am an adult. I know father doesn't like it, but it simply is no longer his choice. I'm sorry to hurt mama, and you, but I need to live _my_ life, while I have the chance to do it.”

“That doesn't mean I have to like it, though,” Sam said, coming further into the library and settling himself onto the footstool in front of Dean. “I'm going to miss you, so very much. Whatever will I do without my older brother?”

Dean blinked, and then chuckled, shaking his head. “You'll do fine, squirt,” he said, falling into old nicknames even though Sammy was nearly a half a head taller than he was. “You have the lovely Jessica now... Why would you need a whinging old big brother hanging around?”

“Oh, stop it, Dean,” Sam said, kicking Dean's foot with a scowl on his face. “You know that isn't what I meant, by a long stretch. What will I do without you around to talk to? I love Jess, you know I do, but...”

“I'll miss you also,” Dean said as Sam trailed off, and he nudged his brother's foot more gently. “But there are always letters.” He grinned. “I know they taught you to write at law school, didn't they? It might take a while for the post to reach me in Montana, but it _will_ reach me.”

“Well. I suppose it might do me some good to have space to myself.” Sam grinned, standing up and turning toward the door. “I won't have to fight with anyone for the last piece of pie!”

Dean barked out a laugh, standing and wrapping an arm around Sam. “True, very true...Oh. Do you have an hour or so to go into town with me? I need to send a telegraph, and it looks better if I've got an Alpha with me.”

“Sure, Dean,” Sam agreed, leaning into his brother's hug before pulling away and heading out the door. “Just let me get my coat. What are we sending?”

“I need to make sure Castiel knows I will be departing on Wednesday, and that I will send another telegraph when I have a more accurate date for my arrival. I'd rather not have to try to make it to his place on my own.”

Sam looked at his brother, curious. “Castiel, huh? Don't think you ever told me his name before.”

“Yes, well,” Dean herded Sam down the hall to the closet so they could go. “Don't worry about it. The less you know after I'm gone, the less you have to worry about father.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

__  
**May 15, 1893**  


_Dear Dean,_

_Being the baby of the family has its advantages. Everyone has always looked out for me, in one way or another. Oh, it can be annoying, sometimes, especially when they get too protective. My brother Gabriel, especially, is concerned for my well-being. Really, I have him to thank for making me post this advertisement. I was... not in the most convivial state of mind. To be honest, I was missing my mate and I was concerned for my children.. He reminded me how very much I have to live for. It can be scary, sometimes, raising children here. Especially alone. But my family has made sure I have never been_ really _alone. My sister Anna has been very helpful, taking the children to her home and keeping them for a few days whenever there is the need for me to have some time alone. Really, I'm very lucky. Still, it will be good not to feel so isolated, so lonely, at night._

“So? Is there news?” Anna hoisted Claire a little higher on her hip, soothing the little girl with a gentle rocking motion as Cas read the telegram he'd received that morning.

“It says Dean will be here on the 28th of June... It's an early coach, he'll be here by sunset.” He swallowed, setting the paper down and looking up at his sister. “I can hardly believe it's actually happening. I mean... I know we've been writing all summer, but part of me truly thought he wouldn't come.”

“What?” Anna shook her head, copper curls bouncing a little and making Claire giggle. “Of course we knew he would come! He's going to _marry_ you! Speaking of... Now that we know when he's coming, we can tell Father Jim. He will want to perform the ceremony on Tuesday, most like.”

“Now wait a minute,” Cas said, his mind racing. “I hadn't planned on the ceremony for a few months yet.”

Anna gasped. “What? Castiel, that's horrible! How could you even think of doing that? With _children_ in your house? No, absolutely not! Think of Dean's reputation!”

Cas' brow furrowed. “What are you _talking_ about, Anna?”

“Castiel Novak,” She bumped Claire up her hip again and advanced on her younger brother. “You will _not_ take a young, unmarried Omega into your home and live with him for _months_. Absolutely not!”

Claire began to fuss and reach out for Cas, who took her absentmindedly. He soothed her, bouncing her on his hip as Anna's words filtered through. “I don't... Anna, nothing is going to _happen!_ I barely know Dean, how could I sleep with him?”

Hands free from the baby, Anna put them on her hips. “It doesn't _matter_ if that's what you were planning or not, Cas. You put an Alpha and an Omega together like that? Things happen! It's tempting fate! And besides, the whole _family_ has a reputation for you to consider.” She turned away and began to bang through her pots and pans, working her frustrations out on the metal. “You can't just... do these things, Castiel. If you're willing to send a train ticket to a stranger so that he can come and live with you, then you'll damn well marry him, too!”

Cas winced, and Claire began to cry as her aunt grew louder and louder. Cas shot his sister an annoyed look. “Of course you are correct,” he said with a sigh. “I suppose I see your point. Alright. Talk to Father Jim. But... Just a short ceremony, something simple. I don't want to throw Dean to the wolves his first week. Anyway, I... I plan on doing the rest of it right. It will be a proper courting, as proper as I can as I will be doing it all backwards. He deserves the best; food, and home, and what finery can be had here.”

He rocked Claire a little more widely, and kissed her forehead through her sobs. “Now, if you'll excuse me, she needs a nap.” He met Anna’s gaze evenly, conveying his seriousness as much as he could over the sobs of his baby. “I will put her down before I go; I have to make sure things are finished at the house for Dean's arrival. Thank you for keeping the pups for me.”

Anna nodded, looking vaguely chastened by Claire's tears. “Alright, Castiel,” she agreed. “I'm sorry for shouting. I just know that... Well, people talk. And I don't want your Dean, or you, or the children, to be the subject of gossip any more than necessary.” She smiled, and touched his shoulder. “And Dean is a lucky man. I know that you will do right by him. Anything I can do to help, just let me know.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

__  
**June 10, 1893**  


_Dear Castiel,_

_It is wonderful to hear from you again. Your letters are truly the highlight of my week, each time I receive one. My mother has perhaps begun to question why I am lately so willing to visit the grocer for her, though I dare not yet explain the why of it to her._

_Your letters have been a most welcome change of pace. Lately I have been nearly smothered by Alphas of my father’s choosing; every which way that I turn I find another seeking my attention, in the gaudiest of ways. It is refreshing to find one such as yourself who is honest, and kind, and thoughtful. I look forward to your letters each time we receive post, and it is a highlight of my day whenever one arrives._

_My father_ is _a good man. Really, he is. I mean, I know complaints about him feature prominently in these letters, but he tries his best for us. I know my grandfather didn't want him to marry my mother. He thought that my father was beneath her, being that our family makes guns and wasn't particularly learned. But they married despite his protests, and they are still quite happy, nearly twenty seven years later. So, I suppose that's why I feel as though this is... right. I don't know you that well yet, but I feel as though we connect well. And who's to say that we won't make it as long as they have?_

_Father thinks the best situation for an Omega is to be married off, happily ruling over a household's worth of staff. I don't think he understands how very much the city drives me mad. How much I want to just be able to walk, and move. I need fresh air, and I'm never going to find it in the city. I am so looking forward to seeing your farm. I haven't told them yet, that I'm leaving here and going west to be with you. I am waiting for the right time. I'm not going to tell my father. He would only shout, but I think... I think mama will understand, and she'll bring him around._

“What's all this, Dean?” Mary motioned at Dean, in his oldest gray shirt, one without much embroidery, and his most worn pair of trousers. His boots were his gardening shoes, the toes dulled and the laces done as tightly as Dean could manage. Not at all appropriate for polite company.

“Well, mama...” Dean swallowed, rubbing the toe of his boot on the floor. Telling John? That was terrifying in its own way, but avoidable. There was no avoiding Mary, though, and he wasn't sure what he feared more- tears or anger. “I'm leaving, mama. I'm going to get married, in Montana.”

“What?” Mary's eyes widened as she stared at her eldest son. Sam stood behind him, and he didn't look surprised at all. She rounded on him, causing him to startle. “Did you know about this?”

He had the grace to blush. “Well, uh, yes. For a little while.”

Mary narrowed her eyes at her younger son. “I'll deal with you later, Samuel Winchester,” she said, before turning to Dean again. “What do you mean that you're marrying someone in Montana? Who? Who do you even know in Montana?”

Dean flushed, but drew himself up tall. _I'm an adult_ , he reminded himself. _I can deal with a little bit of yelling._ “I answered an advertisement. In _Hearths and Homes_. We've been writing since the springtime.” He bit his lip. “I'm in love with him, mama.” That might be stretching the truth a little bit; after all, they'd never met. But in his letters Cas seemed like such a good man, and the token Cas sent smelled so _right_. It wasn't stretching too much that he _could_ love him. One day.

Mary Winchester was no wilting flower, and she met her son's gaze head on. “Dean Henry Winchester. Are you telling me that you've been writing to this stranger? For months? And now you think you're in love with him?”

Dean stiffened his spine under his mother's gaze. “Yes, mother. I have. And I am. And I'm going to go to him, and...” He swallowed. “You're going to have grandpups. A sweet little girl named Claire, and a strong little boy named Benjamin. And I can't wait to meet them.”

Her son's earnest words softened Mary's posture a little bit. “I understand.” Dean had always wanted to have a family; from his very youngest days he'd loved to play with dolls, and have a little family. When the doctor had told him he might not be able to have pups, he'd been heartbroken. She could understand the allure of a ready-made family. “I trust you... But I'd be lying if I said that this makes me happy.”

“I know, mama.” Dean sighed and walked over to Mary, pulling her into his arms. “I'm going to miss you. But I need to... I need to go. To not be in the city anymore. I need to breathe, mama, and be in the open air. I'm not... I'm not as strong as you are.”

She hugged him back just as tightly, her heart breaking for him. “I love you so much, Dean. And you are strong. Stronger than you think.” She pulled away slowly. “What time is your train?”

“It leaves in an hour,” Dean said as he stepped back. This was harder than he'd expected. Mary's eyes were glistening with tears, and he _hated_ himself for making her cry. “I... Sammy was going to take me.”

“Of course he is. And I'm going with you. Wait just a moment.” She looked at the bag. “Have you packed a lunch for yourself?”

Dean blinked and shook his head slowly. “Uh, no... I had thought I might just get something to eat at the first train stop.”

Mary tutted. “Don't be foolish, Dean,” she said. “Go on into the kitchen and pack yourself something. We baked that good fresh bread this morning, make a few sandwiches. And there's all those hard boiled eggs in the cellar, take a few of those. Wrap them in a damp cloth; they’ll keep quite well for at least two days. ” When Dean didn't seem to be moving, she raised an eyebrow. “Well? Go on! Time's wasting, Dean. Sam, go help your brother.”

“Yes, mama,” the boys said in unison, and Dean set down his bag before turning to go into the kitchen. Mary waited for them to be gone before she went upstairs and into her jewelry box. The broach she removed had been hers on her wedding day, a gift from her father. She wrapped it in a pale blue handkerchief and added a silver penny to the bundle, tucking it into her little bag before going back downstairs.

Dean had a small bundle with him now, and she nodded approvingly. “Good.” She said, smiling. “Is the carriage waiting?”

“Yes, it's ready.” Sam picked up Dean's carpet bag and shot his brother a threatening glare when he looked about to protest. The message was clear; Sam was _going_ to do this last thing for Dean. It didn't take long to get everything settled, and Mary let Sam hand her up into the carriage. Dean followed, and Sam climbed in after that. They rode to the train station in silence, Mary staring resolutely at her eldest.

“I want you to write me every week,” Mary said as the carriage pulled to a stop at the station. “And I want to know all about my new grandpups, do you understand?”

Dean smiled, nodding. “Yes, mama,” he agreed willingly, leaning forward and pecking Mary on the cheek. “I'll write. I love you, and father. Tell him... Well. I left him a letter. But tell him I'm sorry I did it this way?”

“Of course, baby,” Mary agreed, squeezing Dean's hand once. She followed the boys out of the carriage and onto the platform where the steam engine waited. Dean and Sam passed the trunk off to the luggage men, and Mary drew Dean into one more hug. “We'll miss you. All of us.”

Sam nodded, hugging Dean tightly when Mary stepped back. “Yeah. I'll miss you. But... At least you've got the chance for that adventure you always dreamed of, right?”

That brought a chuckle out of Dean, and he nodded. “Yes, I suppose you're right, Sammy. It's an adventure.” He stepped away and nodded to the train. “I… I've gotta go. But I love you. Both of you. And Sammy, I want an invitation to your wedding, understand? That writing thing, it goes both ways.”

“Of course it does!” Sam said, patting Dean's shoulder. “And you're going to be there for my wedding, if I have to come out there and drag you here myself.”

Dean laughed, and then hoisted the carpet bag over his shoulder. “Right. Well. I guess... I guess I better get going.”

“Dean, wait.” Dean paused at his mother's voice, and turned back to her.

“Yes, mama?”

She smiled, and pulled the little bundle out of her bag. “Here. I want you to have this.” She took a deep breath, unfolding the handkerchief and showing Dean the broach. “This was your grandfather Campbell's; he wore it when he married your grandmama, and I wore it when I married your father. He wanted me to pass it to you on your wedding day, the eldest Omega in the family.” She smiled. “And a blue handkerchief, for your pocket. And a penny for your shoe.” She folded the bundle neatly again, pressing it into Dean's hand. Then she reached into her bag again and pulled out a few bills. Dean gasped as she pressed them into his hand. Five dollars!

“Mama, no,” he said, shaking his head. Tears glistened in his eyes, and he swallowed them back. “I... Thank you, for the brooch, it's lovely, and for the rest. But I cannot take your money... What about your new dress?”

Mary straightened primly. “Don't be foolish, Dean. The dress can wait; Mrs. Tran will certainly understand. But you will _not_ be traveling all that way hat in hand, understand? Now.” She kissed his cheek. “Go, and be safe. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He turned, hesitant. He'd never been away from home before, not like this. It was a huge step, but he wasn't going to miss out. He couldn't. Resolutely, he straightened his back and turned toward the train, striding across the platform and climbing aboard.

“Excuse me?” He stopped the closest conductor he could find. “I'm in the sleeper compartment, Six A? Where is that?”

The man nodded down to the left. “On that side, three carriages down, yours'll be on the right. The dining carriage is that way,” he nodded to the right, “about four carriages down. Have a nice trip, sir.”

“Thank you,” Dean said, and moved between people until he got to the door between the carriages. He didn't take long to find his sleeping compartment, and he tossed his bag on the lower bunk. His stomach clenched uneasily. _This is it,_ he thought to himself as he sat down on the bunk. He had to hunch his shoulders over to fit. He pulled the small envelope of oilcloth out of his shirt pocket, and carefully retrieved the handkerchief there. Cas had sent it, and just knowing that gave him a little thrill of comfort, even if maybe it shouldn't.

He buried his nose in the kerchief, breathing in deeply. It smelled of oilcloth, yes, and the horses that had had carried it, but beneath those he could still find the notes of cedar, malt, ginger. They were sharp and earthy and made him feel grounded. It was silly to rely on such a faint trace of a scent, of course. He could still meet Cas and find him ugly, his scent revolting. But he didn't think so. He smiled, and inhaled again as the train started to pull out of the station with a harsh whistle. _This is it. I'm going home._ That thought was.... exactly as frightening as he thought it should be.


	3. In Which a Journey Ends and One Begins

**Chapter Three: In Which a Journey Ends and One Begins**

  


_**June 1, 1893** _

_Dear Dean,_

_I was so pleased to receive your letter. It is most refreshing to hear from you, as well, and I will admit that your attitudes are also a pleasant change. I am sorry to hear that your father has been pressuring you, and I hope that he will come to give us his blessing when you do elect to inform him of your choice._

_My sister Anna has three children; they're older than my pups, by a few years. She's already got them helping out in the inn, running linens to guests, helping tote laundry water, and whatever other chores she can think of to occupy them and teach them the value of good work. I understand your feelings about the city. When I lived in Philadelphia, I always felt constrained, and penned in by the constant noise and motion. It makes my skin itch when I'm in town too long; I can't wait to have my pups helping in the garden, or with the cattle. Getting their hands dirty._

_Not that there is anything wrong with running an inn, or a store. But I can't imagine doing it day in and day out. But I'm lucky, because has the space in the inn to watch the pups; it's a long ride, and I don't have her do it every day. It's a nice change of pace, though, not to worry about them when I have to work outside. I look forward to having another adult around to share the burden._

Cas paced up and down the small coach platform. It was nearing sunset, and he knew he didn't have a lot of time left to wait. “Where are they?” He glanced down the road again, as though looking would draw the coach in.

“You know, the coach is likely just running behind.” He watched Castiel pace with a resigned sigh. “Cassie, would you _sit?_ ” Gabriel sat on a bench, sucking on a piece of horehound candy. “You need to settle down.” He shook his head at his brother’s anxious movements. “Your incessant pacing won't bring him in any faster.”

The younger man heaved a sigh, narrowing his eyes at Gabriel. “You wouldn't be nearly so calm if it were you,” he accused the older Alpha. “I am meeting my husband today! And later this week I will be married! Pardon me if I'm a little bit high strung.”

Gabriel barked out a laugh, and fished in his pocket for the little paper twist of candies he kept there. “Castiel, you need to relax. I know that excitement is running high. But the coach will be here very soon.” He untwisted the candies with deft fingers, and plucked another one free to pop in his mouth. “Do you want his first impression of you to be an Alpha all wound tight with anxiety?” He asked around the sweet bite.

Cas wrinkled his nose, shaking his head when Gabriel offered him the twist of paper, no stomach for sweets with his stomach roiling as it was. “I know, I know. But...” He reached for his pocket, pulling out the little oilcloth pouch and the handkerchief inside. It was beautifully embroidered; Dean had truly outdone himself with it. The note that had accompanied it was sweet, if hesitant, explaining that Dean had wanted to send him a gift with meaning. He'd chosen to do a bouquet of flowers; chrysanthemum and rose for Claire and Benjamin's birth months, and the gladiolas because they represented love, somehow. It was heartwarming, and Cas was a little embarrassed by how often he'd taken it out in the last few weeks, to bury his nose in it and seek for the sweet notes of Dean's scent beneath the musky smell of travel.

He did it now, taking in a deep breath and letting the sweet, sharp tang of apple, leather and smoke wash the tension from his shoulders. “I simply long for him to be here. For the chance to speak with him directly, to get to know him.” He looked over at Gabriel, still apparently unconcerned. “What if he doesn't like me, Gabe? What if, after all of this, he cannot stand my scent?” After all, it could happen. Such a long journey was so hard to send a scent item across, even carefully preserved as they'd done it.

“He _won't_ think you stink,” Gabriel said, narrowing his eyes at Castiel. “You've gone and got yourself all twisted, borrowing trouble. The two of you have been writing for such a long time, I’m certain he knows you. Better than some folks in town, I'm sure. And if he's still willing to come all this way, then I think you're going to be fine.”

Before he could go any further, they were cut off by the clopping of hooves and a whip crack from the driver. Cas turned, watching with eager eyes for any sign of Dean. Suddenly he was struck by a much more intense case of nerves. He looked down at his shirt; it was brown, and clean, but the hem was frayed, the collar floppy and loose. His pants had mud on the hem, and his boots needed a good polish. _Why didn't you polish the boots, idiot?_ He berated himself.

The coach rumbled to a stop and the driver climbed down to begin unloading trunks and bags onto the platform. Passengers stepped off; only a few though. This far West, there just weren't many folks arriving. And then, amidst a sea of prim and proper ladies, their sweet scents mingling together in the dusty air, Cas smelled it.

Sharp, clean, the bite of apple over the heavy warmth of leather, the smell of smoky hearth underneath it all. It was so much better than the handkerchief, and Cas turned toward it instinctively. His eyes met Dean's and his mouth went dry.

The tall Omega standing unsure at the edge of the platform had the greenest eyes Cas had ever seen. He clutched a carpet bag to his chest, and he was looking across the platform searchingly.

“Cas?” His voice was lower than Cas expected; most of the Omegas he'd known had purposely attempted to come across as more feminine than they were. It was wonderfully refreshing to know that Dean didn't.

“Dean.” He smiled warmly, hoping that his nerves were hidden by the smile. Dean was dressed comfortably for the trip, with a loose cut shirt and sturdy pants, but he hoped Dean knew what he was getting into. Most of his city clothes probably weren't cut out for farm work; they'd have to remedy that.

He walked closer, following his nose. Dean smelled so heavenly; his doubts about their marriage evaporated. “I'm Castiel. It's wonderful to meet you. Welcome.”

Dean set his bag down, ignoring the loop his stomach gave when he heard Cas speak. Whiskey in crystal, rough and sleek at the same time. He held out a hand, and his stomach lurched again when Cas squeezed it. “It's good to be here,” he agreed after a moment.

This was it, what he'd been waiting for. And it... It felt good. Good to meet his husband, well, husband to be, and see his new hometown. Maybe it wasn't what he was expecting; the Alpha before him was sturdy, but not overly large, and his scent was fuller, somehow. Still, there was potential here, he could taste it.

Castiel stepped into Dean's space, almost unable to help himself, needing to be closer, to scent him more fully. A cough jolted him out of his stupor, and he straightened, blushing. “Oh. Yes.” Gabriel came to Cas’ side, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “This is my brother, Gabriel. Gabriel? Dean.” He had to suppress a growl when Gabriel reached out and patted Dean on the shoulder firmly.

“Entirely my pleasure, Dean,” he said with a grin, and offered the packet of candy. “Want one?”

“Uh... No thank you, Mr. Novak.” Dean swallowed; it was always difficult to be surrounded by the smells of strange Alphas. Even though Cas smelled good, and he sort of knew him. It really wasn't the same, though. There were none of the familiar family smells, nothing that felt safe. _Don't take candy from strangers_ definitely applied here.

“Do you have a trunk, Dean?” Castiel turned his attention to the task at hand. It was easy enough to talk and say that he was going to be married, but to be faced with the reality was an entirely different matter. It was much easier to focus on the semantics.

“Yes.” Dean shifted, still seeming a little bit uncomfortable. The trunks were all unloaded, and Dean nodded to his. “That one, the with the silver corners.” Gabriel and Cas were already moving, and between the two of them they'd grabbed the trunk and hauled it to where Dean was waiting.

“Perfect. Is that everything, Dean?” Gabriel didn't seem to be the type to beat around the bush. He pushed the trunk toward Dean's foot, and nodded to the road when Dean nodded a yes. “We've got the cart ready, and Anna has dinner on at the inn. It's beef stew night and I certainly wouldn't want to be late for that.”

Dean nodded, still not quite sure how to behave. There were, after all, expectations of Omegas, and Dean didn't know what his new soon-to-be family thought about them. At home he'd already be flirting, making some big joke about everything, but it was just too weird to consider right now.

“That sounds delightful,” he said instead. “The food on this journey left much to be desired; mainly dry biscuits and salty soup.” He pulled a face, and hefted the carpet bag. “So, uh, which way to the cart?”

The dust blowing up around him felt really strange, and Dean couldn't help but snort once, to clear out his nose. God, that was awful; he hadn't counted on how... unfinished everything would be out here. Part of him reveled in it, the openness, but other parts of him were... worried.

Dean didn't like to admit that he had “Omega instincts”, but denning? Oh, yes, that was certainly something which Dean both craved and relished. His room at home had been his domain, and he knew he probably spent more time than was absolutely healthy making sure that it was clean and arranged in just the fashion he desired. The lack of his familiar smells and sounds was affecting him and was already making his skin crawl with uncertainty.

“This way…: Castiel motioned to the yard, where they’d tied the horses. “Here, we'll get the trunk, Dean,” Cas said, picking up half the trunk and nodding for Gabriel to get the other half. Not that he thought Dean couldn't do it himself; he knew from Dean's letters that he was a very capable young man. But he would be lying if he said he liked the idea of Dean doing it himself. Part of him, some primal part that he thought he was beyond, needed to show Dean that he was a strong, worthwhile provider.

The three men moved through the small crowd, off the platform and into the open yard. A small cart was hitched to a post, its team of horses drinking eagerly. The dust billowed around them again, and Dean wrinkled his nose, but Cas and Gabriel didn't seem to notice. They heaved the trunk up onto the cart as a chill wind blew, and Castiel smiled over at Dean.

“I hope you brought a good coat. Even now, in the highest part of summer, we can have some fairly cold days.” He chuckled a little. “But that's nothing compared to the winter. It's going to be a rough one, if the almanac is to be believed.”

“Lord, Castiel…” Dean gave an aborted snort. “That is quite an introduction to my new home,” Dean said before he could think, a small smirk quirking his lips. Castiel chuckled as he held out a hand to help Dean into the front of the cart.

“Well, I think it's only fair you know what you're getting into,” he said with a laugh. He wasn't surprised when Dean ignored his hand and grabbed the edge of the cart, hauling himself up. Gabriel followed, leaving Cas to climb up last. “Anna has the children at the inn tonight... You'll get to meet them when we get there.” Cas' stomach twisted nervously at that. Of course he felt that his children were the most amazing pups, but he was a father. He had to think that. Dean might not, and if Dean didn't like the pups, well, this wouldn't work out at all.

“I can't wait,” Dean said honestly as Gabriel cracked the reins and the horses started to move down into town. “And then... We'll go to the house after dinner?”

“Well...” Castiel bit his lip. “Actually, Dean... We've been talking, and we thought maybe it would be better if you stayed at the inn tonight... Well, for the weekend.”

“What? We? Who's we?” Not that Dean was terribly excited about the prospect of moving in with as stranger, current situation notwithstanding, but the idea of... of not being with Cas, and staying surrounded _completely_ by strangers, that was fucking terrifying.

“My family, mother, especially, feels that it would be detrimental to your reputation.” Cas tugged at the hem of his shirt. “We are a fairly small community, and I'd hate for you to start your life here with a negative connotation.” His voice was tentative, anxious, and he glanced at Dean nervously out of the corner of his eye. “It's not that I don't want you at home, you understand. I do! It's just... People will talk. If you move in before the wedding.”

“No, no, I understand.” Dean didn't _like_ it, though. “When is the wedding?” And he was torn, because part of him wanted to just get on with it, fast as they could, and part of him wanted to delay as long as possible. Marriage was a big step, after all.

“Monday.” Castiel stepped closer, but stopped himself from reaching out just yet. What if Dean was uncomfortable with the level of touch he’d offered so far? “Father Jim will do it.” Cas looked over and noted his future husband’s slightly shocked expression. “You _did_ intimate in your letters that you are Catholic as well, aren’t you?” Dean nodded. “Father’s not thrilled with the idea, since we haven't done the counseling, but he's willing to let it slide, given our unique circumstances.”

Monday. Dean's mouth was dry again; damn all this dust! He knew Castiel must be able to smell the anxiety rolling off of him. Monday was somehow much sooner than he'd expected. “Uh. Great.” He nodded weakly. “Sounds very good.” He sucked in a breath to calm his nerves. “So I am to stay at the inn until then?” He looked up, searching his future husband’s face. “And after the ceremony, I'll move into your home?”

“Yes, of course. _Our_ home, Dean. I look forward to you joining me there.” Castiel reached to squeeze Dean's hand. “Gabriel helped me with your room. We even built you a new bed! I lacked the time to make you a new feather bed, but I've given you mine, for now. We'll make a second one later this year.”

Dean frowned. _My own room? Is that marriage? No… But then, perhaps I am simply reading things wrong?_ He shifted, looking down at his hands as he tried to gather his thoughts. _Regardless… I would not speak of this with Castiel's brother present, no matter how dedicatedly he may be minding his own business._ “That sounds... Lovely. Thank you,” Dean managed, though his mind was reeling. _I didn't move all the way out here to be a nursemaid... Did I?_

The signals he'd gotten from Castiel earlier, the scent of arousal he was _sure_ he smelled over the dust? That was something, wasn't it? “Of course. I wouldn't want you to feel too... contained.” Castiel continued as he squeezed Dean's hand.

The warm calloused grip eased Dean's nervousness at least a little bit, and he forced himself to relax. This was a good decision; he was sure of it. It was just a matter of convincing his gut that was true.

Dean wished for an enclosed carriage, so he could smell Castiel over the rushing wind. He wanted to be able to saturate himself in that smell, to make it familiar and safe, like he had with Father and Sammy's scents at home. Realistically, he knew that their scents being compatible didn't have to mean anything, but logic went out the window in a situation such as this. _Wonder if he'd give me a shirt to sleep in,_ he thought, shooting a glance at Cas from the corner of his eye. It would certainly make him feel better, just like the handkerchief did so many nights at home.

He couldn't even imagine asking for something like that. The cart slowed to a stop in front of a tall whitewashed building, ‘Yellow Rose of Texas’ painted gaily on a sign above the door. “Here we are, home sweet home.” Gabriel sang out as he jumped from the cart. The strong, musky smell of horses wafted in from the back of the building. “I'm going to drop the boys off,” Gabriel started to unhitched the steeds, “and get them settled, while you two,” he looked from Dean to his brother, “get Dean's things inside. Tell Anna I'll be in before the soup’s had a chance to cool.”

Castiel, apparently oblivious to Dean's anxieties the last several minutes, smiled broadly. “Certainly,” he said agreeably. “Shall we, Dean?”

“Uh, certainly.” Dean grabbed his carpet bag and slid down off the seat, landing on the dusty ground with a thud. The puff of grit had his eyes watering a moment later, and he fought down the urge to cough. Cas and his combined efforts had the trunk down on the porch in one good heave. In moments Dean was following Castiel into the inn while Gabriel made quick work of unharnessing the horses.

“I can't wait to introduce you to Anna,” Castiel was saying as he pushed open the front door. “She is going to be so thrilled to meet you.”

Dean gave a non-committal hum, his stomach twisting itself in knots. Hopefully, Anna liked him as much as Cas thought she would, since he was going to be at her mercy for a little while. He shifted his carpet bag higher on his shoulder, and then shifted his grip on the trunk.

“Anna!” Castiel shouted his sister's name as they crossed through the foyer, and Dean winced. Normally fine with being the center of attention, Dean wished for a slightly more subtle introduction. Luckily, the inn seemed to be empty, despite how it was nearing supper time, and Dean breathed a small sigh of relief. At least if he had to be paraded through the town to meet Cas' family, he wouldn't also have to meet the whole town while doing it.

“In the kitchen, Cas,” a woman's voice answered from somewhere down the hallway. Dean let Cas guide him to the corner of the room and they set the trunk down with a muffled thump before continuing down the hall. The smell of beef stew wafted down the hallway, and Cas led Dean through a wide room with a big table in the middle, then through a set of swinging doors to the source of the delicious smell.

A redheaded woman stood by the stove, rolling out biscuit dough on the table right next to it. She was floured up to her elbows, and sweat glistened on her forehead. “Hello, Anna,” Cas said, advancing on his sister and pulling her into a brief hug despite the flour everywhere.

“Cas!” She grinned, and as she turned Dean caught a whiff of her scent. Similar undertones to Cas, malt and ginger, but the top notes were more fruity, cherry-like. Omega, Dean thought, and that was a relief. It wouldn't be so bad to be stuck away from his Alpha, with strangers, if there were another Omega around. “Oh! Good!” She took Dean in over Cas’ shoulder, still smiling broadly. “You've got him!”

She stepped back from Cas, and wiped one of her hands on her apron. “You must be Dean. We've heard so much about you.” She held out her hand, and Dean reached to take it, squeezing gently. He realized that he needed to moderate his strength with other Omegas much of the time, because he was so much bigger than they were. Anna gripped back hard, though, and he had to grin.

“I could say the same thing,” Dean said, smiling. “Cas speaks very highly of you.”

“You as well,” Anna said. She nodded to the biscuits. “I need to finish cooking, the boarders will be here soon. You're welcome to stay here and visit if you'd like, or go on up to your room.” She stopped, realizing something. “Oh, my!” She glanced at her brother, “Cas did say you're staying here for a few days, right?”

Dean bit back a chuckle. _Well, at least I’ll fit in around here._ “Uh, yes, ma’am, he did. He said... Just until the wedding?” He hoped that was right; it would be really weird to stay in town much longer than that.

Anna smiled at her future in-law, “No, ma’am, from you. Anna. We’re family or as good as. Her smile broadened as Dean’s shoulders relaxed just a fraction, “And yes, just until then. So,” she waved a hand to the door. “We made up the first room, top of the steps for you. Dinner will be ready soon... Perhaps twenty minutes. Why don't you go ahead and get washed up, put your things away, relax?” She patted Dean’s hand. “I know you must be tired after all that travelling.”

Castiel placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, squeezing gently. It was the first time they'd touched since the train station, and the feeling was electric. “I'm sure a bit of rest would do you good, Dean,” he said, though it didn't sound too much like an order. Just a gentle agreement with Anna.

“To be sure,” Dean nodded. That would be most welcome,” he agreed, even though he'd done nothing _but_ rest for the last two days, seated in the carriage. A thought occurred to him, and he looked around the kitchen again. “Uh, Castiel,” he glanced over at his intended, “Where are Benjamin and Claire?”

“Oh!” Castiel's face lit up with a smile to hear Dean ask about them. “Would you like to meet them right now?” He hesitated a little bit; Dean had been travelling quite a long time, and children could be overwhelming. “I thought you might wish to rest or refresh yourself first?”

“No, I am quite rested,” Dean promised. “I would be most pleased to see them now.” After all, the pups were so important to Castiel. _If they do not like me… This might have all been a grand mistake._ The anxiety was back full force, though Dean fought not to show it. 

Anna was back to rolling out dough, but she glanced at them. “They're up with Adam and Elsie in the playroom. You can go on up, I'm sure Ben will be thrilled to see you. And Adam would love to be relieved of babysitting duty.”

Cas laughed, and nodded. “Yes, yes, message received. We'll get out of your hair... Come, Dean.” He shot Dean a smile and the hand on his shoulder slid down to gently squeeze his wrist. “We'll take your trunk upstairs, and then go find the pups.”

“Of course,” Dean said, swallowing. The hand on his wrist was enough to make Dean's mouth dry, and he took that as a good sign. _If just a touch on my wrist is so alluring, surely we are compatible?_ Hope surged, his heart fluttering rapidly. _If not… This will be horrifically awkward._

They had to stop touching when they got back down to the sitting room where they'd left the trunk, and they each took up an end. “The steps are over here,” Cas said, crossing the sitting room in the other direction, and turned backwards to go up the steps. This put them face to face again, and Dean fought down a blush. He knew he was dusty and dirty, not his most appealing.

“So... Claire is nine months old now?” Dean sought for a topic of conversation as they took step after awkward step. “Is she sitting up yet?”

“Yes, she sits with some help,” Cas said, all proud papa. He took each step carefully, but let his eyes drift over Dean. “I'm sure she'll love you.”

“I hope so,” Dean said, chuckling a little bit. He cast about for another topic of conversation, but his mind fell short as they reached the top of the steps. Cas turned away and guided him toward the first room, where Anna had said that he would be staying. He opened the door and led Dean around the bed to set the trunk down at its foot.

“Dean.” 

Dean was suddenly acutely aware that he was _alone_ with Cas for really the first time. He looked up, meeting Cas' blue eyed gaze. “I want you to know... I'm very glad to have you here. I've been looking forward to our lives together.” Cas was suddenly even closer, his hands coming up to rest on Dean's shoulders.

“I’m glad I'm here too,” Dean said, and it really wasn't untrue. He was still unsure how all this was going to play out, but Cas liked him, and he liked Cas, and that had to mean something.

“Can I... Dean, I would very much like to scent you. Properly.” He watched Dean hopefully, but he didn't want to push too much. _Too much, too soon?_ He shifted a little on his toes. _It’s alright if he doesn’t want it… We have all our lives to learn each other in that way. He is much too important to rush._

But Dean nodded. “If you like,” he agreed. His heart was pounding, and he was sure Cas could smell his nerves. He stepped closer and tipped his head, exposing his neck. He closed his eyes, knowing that watching Cas was just going to make him more anxious. He felt the Alpha's body press along his own, and then a moment later Cas' nose was against his throat.

The puff of air as Cas inhaled made him shiver, but Dean wasn't complaining, not really. This close, the notes of leather and malt were almost overwhelming, and he clenched his hands within the pocketed confines of his breeches. It wasn't beseeming for an Omega to grab at an Alpha's shirt, no matter how attracted Dean was to the scent.

Cas drew in a deep breath at Dean's throat, reveling at the sweetly tart scent. He could feel Dean's pulse pounding under his skin and he smiled. One day Dean's throat would bear his mating bite, the scar there for everyone to see. He'd never thought he'd be able to mate again after Amelia, would never want anything other than her vanilla-cherry-orange zest scent. The clean, fresh smell that Dean brought, though, was so refreshing in his own way, and Cas took a second full inhale.

Dean flushed. They were alone, unmated. Dean knew better than to think that anyone walking in would see this and think it was innocent, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Cas, though, seemed to come to himself again after a moment and pulled back.

“I'm...” He cleared his throat, a faint flush on his cheeks. “Thank you, Dean. I wouldn't want to make you... Uncomfortable.” He lifted a hand, an aborted gesture that fell back to his side.

Dean regretted that. Cas had been free with his touches downstairs, he wasn't sure why he was being so shy now. It wasn't as though they weren't joining each other in matrimony in just three days time. 

“You weren't,” Dean reassured his intended, but didn't know what else to say, so he just flushed and nodded to the door. “Shall we?”

“Yes, of course.” Cas drew himself up a little bit more confidently and led the way down the hall. The sounds of children laughing and playing could be heard coming from a room at the very end, and Dean's anxiety faded. Children? Were a blessing to be cherished. God’s perfect gift, with a blunt honesty to them that adults just never could pull off.

Cas pushed the door open to find a boy, about twelve, and a girl who looked about ten, sitting on the floor. Claire sat on the boy's lap, and Benjamin was toddling around the room, a little wooden horse in his hand.

They all looked up when the door opened, and Benjamin's eyes lit up. “Papa! Papa, papa!” He toddled over to them, eyes only for Cas. He held his hands up and Cas chuckled, kneeling and scooping him up. “Hello, little man,” he said, standing, letting Ben clutch at his coat as he gave a little twirl.

Claire giggled too, waving her hands up at him. “Pa!” She parroted, grinning broadly.

Cas smiled down at her. “Hello pretty girl,” he cooed. Dean chuckled a little bit. It was adorable to see the big, tough Alpha cooing and giggling at a little baby. The boy, who must be Adam, stood up. He brought Claire with him. “Hello, uncle Cas,” he said, bouncing Claire a little bit. “Who's this?”

“This is Dean,” he said, and this time he did touch Dean's shoulder, squeezing gently. “We are to be married on Monday.”

_How odd_ Dean thought. _Can we only touch for show? When someone is around who matters?_ Their private moment of scenting notwithstanding, they had barely touched since he had stepped off of the carriage. He clenched down on the anxiety that welled up again. _There is time. Surely._

Adam looked him up and down carefully, holding out a hand after a moment. “Hi. I'm Adam. This is my little sister Elsie.” The little girl, red hair clearly advertising her parentage, hopped up and walked over to them.

“Hi,” she said, waving. “You dress funny.”

Castiel choked, but Dean bit back a laugh as he shook Adam's hand as seriously as he could. Then he knelt, so he could look Elsie in the eye. “Yes, I suppose I do,” he agreed. “I'm from the city, and there's not much farming there. I am certain I will get some new clothes now that I'm here.”

She twisted her mouth, considering, before she finally nodded. “You should ask my mama. She makes the _best_ clothes.” She spun in her dress, skirt flaring out, and Dean's smile broadened again.

“Maybe I will,” he agreed easily. “That sounds like a very good idea.”

“Are you and Uncle Cas in love?” Elsie stared up at Dean, hearts in her eyes.

“Uh....” Dean wasn't sure how to answer that, and he shot a panicked look to Cas. He didn't want to speak for his Alpha, but he certainly didn't want to lie to the man’s niece, either.

“We are going to be married,” Cas said again, as though that answered the question. “On Monday. Dean is going to be moving in with me and helping the children.”

Cas' words felt like a punch to the stomach. _Of course_. He didn't think they were _in_ love, not the way that his parents were, but to hear it put so baldly? He'd be lying if he said it didn't hurt. That scenting thing earlier obviously had been too good to be true.

Still, he forced his disappointment down. This was still salvageable. Dean knew they were compatible conversationalists, so it would just... It was going to take time. They had time. He'd known it was going to be a gamble, coming here, but Dean was a man of his word. He'd come here to marry Cas, and that was what he was going to do.

Ben was finally tiring of running his horse up and down Cas' arm, and he looked over at Dean. “Papa, who?” He pointed at Dean, turning a little in his arms.

“This is Dean,” Cas said, as though he'd realized he hadn't introduced his son to Dean properly. “He's going to be staying with us.”

Ben giggled. “Hii!” He waved at Dean, apparently not worrying about the wooden horse still in his hand. “Dee.”

Dean waved back, pushing down his hurt and smiling at the little boy. “Hello, Ben,” he said. “I like your horse.”

The little boy laughed and began to “run” the horse up and down Cas' arm again.

Claire began to fuss, and Adam looked up at Dean beseechingly. “Can you take her?” He asked plaintively. “My arm is getting tired.”

Dean glanced at Cas for permission. Just because he was marrying the guy, didn't mean Cas wanted him touching his baby on the first day. Cas seemed to be watching him, though, so when Cas smiled a little, Dean turned back to Adam. “Of course,” he agreed. The boy wasted no time passing Claire over. Dean bounced her gently.

“Hello sweetie!” He smiled at her, then pulled a face to make her smile. She giggled a little, but then started to squirm again. “Uh oh... Do you need a new bottom?” Dean subtly squeezed at her rear, finding her a bit squishy underneath her dress. “Oh, yes, I think you do.” He looked over at Adam. “Is there somewhere I can change her? I think she needs it.”

He didn't look over at Cas, so he missed the Alpha's impressed look. Dean was exactly what he wanted, what he needed, not even hesitating when it came to his pups. _Family instincts indeed._ He couldn't wait until he could call Dean his husband. Yes, it might be a while before Dean felt comfortable enough to truly be his husband in all ways, but clearly he was going to be an admirable father, and Ben and Claire came first, always.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean almost missed the soft knock at his door. Between the angle that he sat upon the bed and the quiet of the tap, it was a recipe for disaster. But Dean heard enough to look up, and he cleared his throat. “Come in,” he said, after a moment.

The latch lifted and Anna stood there, holding two mugs that steamed lightly in the cool air. It was surprisingly chilly for July, though apparently he should be expecting that, if Cas' words earlier held any truth. She lifted one mug in his direction, smiling a little.

“I thought you might like some warm milk to help you sleep? I know it is always difficult for me to sleep the first night in a new place.” When he nodded, she stepped into the room and passed him one mug. “How are you settling in?”

Dean watched her lean against the desk, and he sipped the milk appreciatively, finding it sweetened with just a touch of honey. Perfect. “I... Suppose as well as can be expected,” he said, shrugging a little. “I'm looking forward to the wedding. To be honest, I had thought that Cas would be bringing me home this evening. It's... a little bit disconcerting to be here alone, instead.”

Anna tutted before sipping her own milk. Her eyes twinkled. “Ah, yes. My brother and his foolish ideas. I simply cannot fathom how he thought it would be appropriate to move you in without first making you an honest man. I am sorry for that, Dean.”

“What? Oh, no... Don't judge him too harshly. I am as much at fault for that idea.” Dean smiled wistfully. “Believe it or not, it is rather daunting to be on your own in a strange place. As Cas is my intended, and the only friendly face I knew I could look forward to…” He sighed, sipping his milk to give himself a moment to think. “Well, I must admit that I was anxious to be near him.”

“Well. That is certainly a most difficult position to be in.” She perched on the edge of the desk, shaking her head. Castiel had a habit of making things harder than they needed to be. “You do understand why he made the decision he did?” She sipped at her milk. “Once it was explained to him that people will most certainly talk, he wanted to protect you in whatever way he could.”

Dean wrinkled his nose. “Yes, I understand. I'd hoped to escape that by coming here,” he shrugged. “But I suppose people will talk, however far from the city they are.”

“Worse here, I'm afraid,” Anna said regretfully. “We haven't much else to talk about, so I am afraid that we tend to talk about each other.” She smiled a little. “Castiel certainly has never wearied of speaking of you.”

Dean couldn't help the way his ears perked up at that, though he tried to hide his sudden interest by taking a sip of his milk. “Oh? All good, I hope?”

Anna grinned, nodding. “Yes, he has been anticipating your arrival for weeks now... I know he is looking quite forward to having help at home with the pups.”

 _Oh. Right. The pups._ Dean deflated a little, but tried to hide it behind a cheeky smile “I look forward to that, as well. I believe I have fallen in love with them from afar. They sound like marvelous children.” _Of course. He needed me for the pups sake._ His creeping insecurity from earlier was sinking into his gut once more, as Anna parroted once again what he had suspected. _Well,_ he thought, _at least I know where I stand._

His hostess seemed to sense his discomfort, and she pushed away from the desk. “I'm sorry,” she said, patting his hand as she moved toward the door. “I know you must be simply exhausted from your travel. And you have had such a long day. Please, get some rest.”

Dean thought about protesting, but really, he'd prefer to be alone to nurse his broken dream, so he nodded absently. “Thank you,” he said, finishing his milk. “And thank you for the milk.”

“You're welcome, Dean.' She took his mug when he handed it up to her. “And... Dean? Welcome. It really is quite marvelous to have you.”

Dean just nodded, not saying anything else, and waited for her to disappear before he flopped back on the pillow. He didn't want to agree with Sammy, that this was a bad idea. He couldn't fathom being back in the city again, and marrying Alpha Singer's nephew or some equally stuffed shirt Alpha. But he wasn't sure how he was going to fare being a second-choice spouse, there for the childcare, either. In their letters it had always seemed like Cas wanted more from him, like there was something there. Apparently not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

__  
**July 1, 1893**  


_Dearest Mama,_

_Mama, I've arrived safely. I truly don't know what I expected, but the travel was quite grueling. The train to Missouri wasn't bad, but I am afraid I became quite ill on the steamboat. Travel by water does not agree with me at all. It was nearly a week by stagecoach to arrive in town, and I have never been happier to see a building._

_The town is quaint, small. The coach station is on the outskirts of town, so we got to see quite a bit of it while we made our way to the inn. My fiancee's name, I surely do not know how I neglected to give you this important piece of information, is Castiel Novak. It seems as though his family almost runs this town, that goes by the name Milton’s Heaven. It’s named after Castiel’s mother’s family, and it seems that it lives up to its name. So lovely and open; I look forward to seeing more of it. And, of course, Castiel is a good man. He's strong and very kind hearted. I hope that I will be happy with him._

_We were wed two days after I arrived. The ceremony was... Everything I expected. Castiel's brother Michael is of a size with me, and was able to loan me a white shirt to wear; I am afraid that none of mine would serve for wedding attire. At least, not according to his sister, Anna, who runs her house with an iron fist. I wore forget-me-nots in my boutonniere; something blue, like they say. The brooch you sent was a welcome touch of home on such a significant day. Castiel’s mother was much taken with it, and how kind of you it was to send such a valuable family heirloom on such a trip._

_It felt like the whole town was there for the ceremony; I suppose there isn't much else to do in a town like this. Cas and I received many well wishes._

_I do miss you, mama, but I will write you often. I think that I can be happy here. Please tell father and Sammy that I send my love._

_Much love, your son,_

_Dean_


	4. In Which There is Settling in and Unsettling Misunderstandings

**Chapter Four: In Which there is Settling in and Unsettling Misunderstandings**

  


_**July 8, 1893** _

_Dearest Mama,_

_The land here is lovely. I have a little garden where I can grow all the vegetables I want. I must admit that I have missed your thyme; the spices here are very dear and hard to preserve. We have wild mint, but no thyme or rosemary. The vegetables, though, are so fresh and beautiful. I've never had such variety for the kitchen at my fingertips before._

_Oh! And, Mama! We have chickens here. I never knew how much work chickens take to raise! I never expected that. You have never tasted eggs so rich as when they are fresh from the hen. Even my baking seems different, somehow. It is nice to be out in the sun, though I expect you would not approve of how dark my skin is getting._

_The pups are everything I had hoped. Ben is nearly big enough to help me with my weeding. He is a sweet boy, always willing to lend a hand anywhere I ask. He fetches eggs and gathers the laundry, and is the best clothespin passer any man could have._

_Claire is a quiet baby, forever entertaining herself by watching those around her. When you play with her, though, it is obvious that she is very smart, and reaches for anything she can get her hands on. She is nearly able to sit up on her own, and I am certain that soon she will be a holy terror, running about the house, just as Sam used to be._

_Castiel is very busy much of the day, but he takes good care of us. His sister, Anna, has taken me under her wing, and is teaching me to quilt. And while sewing is not my favorite past-time it’s useful to get to know the other omegas and some of the betas in the area. Plus, it will be useful skill to have. I hope that by the winter I shall be able to piece another; it is likely to be very cold here, and I do not want the pups to catch a chill._

_I hope everything is well at home. Give everyone my love._

_Your loving son, Dean_

Claire began to wail, and Dean set aside the sock he was mending to pick her up. “Shh, shh,” he soothed, rocking her on his hip. Her cries grated in a way that generally they didn't, and he longed, more than usual, for Cas to come in from the fields. Their relationship certainly wasn't what Dean had daydreamed about for all those months back home. Aside from the occasional brush of shoulders, or the accidental touch of fingers when passing something, they didn't touch. Cas gave him plenty of privacy; there hadn't been any more scenting, and no kisses since their wedding. _Some things just aren't meant to be,_ Dean thought sadly.

He buried his nose in Claire's shoulder, soothing the girl with a nuzzle. At the same time, he took a deep breath, inhaling the bits of her scent that were so much like Cas. He was sure some of it was Amelia's, but the bottom notes were all Cas. “Hush, my darling,” he murmured gently. “Your papa will be home soon...” Claire was starting to soothe to his scent, which was a relief. The first few days she'd simply cried all the harder when Dean tried to settle her, but now it seemed that he had imprinted enough that she felt safe with him.

Dean, in turn, had fallen in love with the small bundle in his arms, and her rambunctious older brother. Even if Cas never loved him, never gave him what he wanted, well, he had pups, and that was enough. It would have to be.

Cas himself was a conundrum, Dean thought, as he rocked the cranky little girl back to sleep. He'd clearly put a lot of effort into making Dean feel welcome. The bedroom he'd built was comfortable, though not overly large, and the feather bed smelled reassuringly of the Alpha. Dean's trunk sat at the foot of the bed, bringing a warm feeling of 'home'. But beyond the effort he had clearly put into the house, he did not act as though Dean was his husband. In fact, Cas was fairly brusque. He'd thank Dean for his cooking, ask after the children, perhaps ask about Dean's day, but conversation beyond that was stilted. None of the easy wordsmithing his letters had demonstrated. If there had been any doubt that Dean had married a stranger, it was gone now.

Footsteps coming up the path drew Dean's eyes up from Claire, and he gently set the little girl back in her cot. The door opened and Castiel came in, holding the carcass of a chicken. “Hello, Dean,” he said, nodding genially. “I… Thought you might enjoy chicken for dinner.”

Dean stared at the body Cas was holding in one hand. Of course _logically_ he knew how chickens were cleaned, cook had always managed that for him. He swallowed hard, and forced a smile. If Cas wanted chicken, he'd make chicken. “Uh, that sounds... very good, Cas,” he said. He hoped his discomfort didn't show on his face.

Castiel smiled and offered Dean the carcass. “Wonderful.” He glanced over to where Ben was playing with some blocks. “Has he been a good boy?”

“Hmm?” Dean was distracted by the weight of the bird in his hands. How the hell was he going to clean this in time to eat? “Oh, yes. He's been very helpful.” He nodded to the door. “I'll just... go out and pluck this,” he said, flushing a little. This was _not_ his idea of a good time. Oh, he didn't mind _doing_ it, but it would have been nice to have a little _warning_.

Castiel looked confused. “Would you like me to heat some scalding water for you?”

“Some what?” Dean didn't know why he'd need water for plucking; he wasn't planning on boiling the thing.

“Scalded water, to loosen the feathers…” Cas hesitated; had he misstepped? Dean was so competent in everything he did, it was easy to forget that he had not been away from the city long. “Dean, have you never plucked a chicken before?”

Despite the gentle tone of the words, Dean flushed much more deeply. Of course he had to go and seem like a simpleton to Cas; for him, plucking a chicken must be an everyday thing. What a way to rub in how poorly he fit in here. “No,” he managed, straightening his spine. “The cook always did it. You said I need a pot of water?” He held up a hand when Cas went to the door. “No, no, stay and have a wash up. The pups have missed you today. I am certain I can be master over a chicken.”

He fled out into the yard. He filled a pot with water from the rain barrel, and built a fire out in his laundry pot fire pit. He tried not to listen in as Cas played with the children, instead focusing his attention on the water. He figured that if it was to loosen the feathers, he must need to dunk the bird, so that was what he did, holding it by its feet and dropping it in and out. After a few minutes the feathers were loosened, and Dean set to the messy and time consuming work of pulling out all the feathers.

It took him far too long; he knew Cas must be hungry, but the Alpha never appeared. The sun was setting by the time Dean had the thing butchered and cooked. Cas was kind enough not to mention the few stray feathers in its skin, even after it had been baked, but little Ben had a mind of his own.

“Eew. Dee, the chicken is poking me!” He scrunched up his little nose, and Dean swallowed down his disappointment. Couldn't even please the two year old.

“I'm sorry, Ben,” he said. “I'll do better next time.”

Cas, though, frowned at the little boy. “Benjamin, that was not nice. Dean has worked very hard to cook us this meal; it is not polite to poke fun. Apologize now, please.”

The little boy looked a little contrite to be chastised by his Alpha. “Sorry, Dee,” he said obediently before dropping his head to look at his plate.

“That's all right, Ben,” Dean said with a small chuckle. “I forgive you. And you're right, the chicken _is_ poking, a little bit.” He stood up, his own food barely touched. He certainly wasn't hungry, with the anxiety churning in his gut. “If you can get the pups to bed, I will manage the kitchen,” he offered. He began to clear his own plate before Cas could nod.

“Dean, you have hardly touched your dinner…” Dean was usually a rival for Cas himself, putting a few plates of food away. Cas' stomach sank; he clearly had misstepped with his effort with the chicken. “Are you certain you are quite all right?”

Dean missed the concern in his voice, too caught up in how badly he'd mangled something as simple as a _chicken_. “I am certain. I feel perhaps I caught a touch of something, and it's put me off my appetite a bit. Nothing to worry about.” He crossed the small space over to the kitchen, sealing the leftovers in the pot and hanging that back over the fire. “It'll be a good soup tomorrow.”

He began to wash his own bowl in his little basin of wash water, purposely keeping his back to Cas. He couldn't bring himself to see the look of disappointment he was sure was on the Alpha's face. He'd always known he wasn't exactly a model Omega, but it was certainly frustrating to see it so plainly. He _didn't_ see how Cas watched him, worry in his eyes, as Dean puttered about the kitchen, until Ben had finally finished his chicken.

By the time Cas came back from putting the pups to bed, Dean had gone up to his own room, and the candle was out. Castiel sighed, and shook his head. He'd only tried to show Dean how good a provider he could be, but that, apparently, had backfired. He padded his way to his own room and settled on the pallet of furs and blankets that was his bed until a second feather bed could be had. _Gabriel_ , he thought as he put out the light. _He'll know what to do to woo Dean... I'll talk to him tomorrow._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Gabriel, you must help me,” Castiel said, pitching more hay up into the loft. “Dean is... unhappy.” He stared straight ahead, glad for the task to keep his hands busy. “And I do not know how to fix it.”

“What? Unhappy?” Gabriel sounded very surprised. “Well, Cassie, you must remember that he has traveled quite a long way, and his life has changed drastically. Give him time.” He shifted his feet and started to fork the hay into a better position for Cas to toss it up into the hayloft. “How is he... You know, between the sheets?”

Cas nearly dropped the pitchfork. “Gabriel! That is highly inappropriate!” He swallowed, regaining his composure and savagely stabbing into the hay. “In any case, we have done nothing of the sort.” He was nearly as embarrassed to admit that as he was to be asking for Gabriel's help. “We have not even kissed since the wedding.”

“You’ve not kissed? Cassie!” It was Gabriel's turn to be shocked. “Why ever not? Little brother, he is your _husband_ , and your Omega. Why would you neglect him so?”

“Neglect?” Castiel turned to his brother, exasperated, “Gabriel, I hardly know him! It would certainly be _more_ improper for me to press my affections on him. I do not even know if he would welcome my affections.” He sighed. “I killed him a chicken this week...” Cas sighed and brushed a stray piece of hay off his arm, more aggressively than necessary. “He looked at me as though I had sprouted another head when I brought it to him.”

Gabriel chuckled and shook his head. “So your 'Alpha can provide' stance fell through?” He grinned. “You have to remember, Cassie, he just came from the city. He likely has never seen a good, fresh chicken. I would be a bit... surprised as well, if I was faced with one.” He pitched some more hay off of the cart, letting Cas work on moving it into the barn and release some tension.

“Well what should I do?” Castiel's voice wavered slightly. He had always followed Gabriel's lead when it came to matters of the heart. He never would have approached Amelia, no matter how alluring he'd found her lavender-chocolate-orange scent. She'd been so perfect, delicate and smooth, and Castiel had never been as happy as he had with her.

And then she'd gotten sick. The pups had lost their mother. He lost his mate and his world had gone dark. He shoveled the hay savagely, fighting back tears, as he always did when he thought of what no longer was. After a few minutes, though, the anger and sorrow faded. The phantom scent of leather and apple reminded him of Dean. Dean, who had come into his home and filled it again with the smells of fresh baking and the sounds of his children laughing. He could feel the tantalizing light of hope creeping into his heart again. 

“I cannot lose him,” he said to Gabriel, turning to his brother, swallowing hard. “And I do not even know where to begin to fix this. All he does, he does without complaint.” The house had not been so clean since Amelia was sick, and the food was delicious, poorly plucked chicken notwithstanding. Dean didn't flinch from any duty, and took to them all as a duck to water.

“He never seems to stop; after his regular day to day duties are done, his needle is never still...He has made new valances for the windows, pillows for the children... He has even begun to sew for Claire and Ben, as they are growing so quickly.” He shook his head; he wasn't sure why Dean was cutting up his lovely clothing, but he knew that was the only place the fabric could have come from for the changes.

“Anna.” Castiel looked up sharply, but Gabriel was grinning. “We must ask Anna. She knows exactly how to woo an Omega; she was wooed, was she not?”

“Well... I suppose that is accurate,” Castiel said, chuckling. “Very well. This evening, then. I will speak with her and see what she advises.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

__  
**July 15, 1893**  


_Dearest Mama,_

_The house is starting to feel like home. Cas has gone to great lengths to ensure that I am comfortable. You can tell Father that I have married a thoughtful Alpha. He made certain that I would have a private space in the home, somewhere to call my own. The house itself is fine, warm and tightly sealed. I have been making valances and window shades, using the finery I brought from New York. That kind of frippery has little use here, but it is a nice touch of home to see reminders of happy evenings spent with you. It feels nice to know that I can make a difference. You always hung my samplers on the wall, but that always felt somehow… expected. Here, it feels as though I am making the space _mine_ , which is quite refreshing._

_My days are quite full and busy; the duties here are much more extensive than I had in New York. I go to bed at night tired, but fulfilled. Still, I have never been more grateful for a feather bed! Cas says the weather will start to turn soon, and I will be busy canning and storing for winter. It will be nice to have a change of pace, even just from the day to day._

_I must admit some things are very different from home. Butchering my own meat is truly a challenge. Cas brought me home a chicken this week, and I confess, I was at a loss as to how to handle it. I have not been so embarrassed in my life. I presented a chicken still with feathers; Ben would not even _eat_ it. It was nearly enough to make me wish to never cook a chicken again. Castiel encouraged Ben to eat it anyway, but that made it no less embarrassing. _

_Dear Ben, though, never hesitates to speak his mind. He is a handful, but in the very best of ways. He has learned to open the latch to the front door; I have to gather him up at least three times a day. He also tells the best stories I have ever heard a child tell. Each of his toys, most made by Cas, will have a name and a tale of adventures you would not believe. He is such a joy; I am blessed to be with him each day._

_Claire is growing so rapidly! I feel as though she has doubled in size since I have arrived, though I know that is not the truth. She is such a sweet baby, always easily soothed even when she is upset. She is such a pleasure to watch as she learns to do so much._

_How go the plans for Sam and Jess' wedding? Has Jess decided whether she will wear white and blue? She will be a beautiful bride, no matter her decision. Sammy has not written me as yet, please tell him to expect another letter from me soon. I do know they must have him busy at work as he finishes his studies. Please let me know if there is anything I can do, even as far away as I am._

_Your loving son,_

_Dean_

Dean stared at the small fold of fabric Castiel had just set on the table in front of him. Inside were several skeins of embroidery floss, in deep, rich colors. _How much did those cost?_ Even knowing that Castiel's family owned and operated the store, these certainly had to have been exorbitantly dear.

“They're... They're lovely, Cas,” he said realizing that his Alpha had been staring at him hopefully for several moments. “How do I come to deserve such riches?”

“Oh, well…” Castiel smiled shyly. “You sent me that lovely handkerchief, and your fine clothing has been so transformed as the valances and the pillows... I thought you might prefer some of your new shirts to be decorated.” He smiled, and patted Dean's hand. “And I wanted to thank you for all of your help recently, with the children, and the house.”

Dean's heart sank. Of course. It was an elaborate thank you gift; not, as he'd hoped upon further reflection on the chicken, a courting gift. Well, at least he knew where he stood. He folded the cloth carefully around them again. “Thank you,” he said, smiling a little bit. “I'm not certain what I'd like to use them for yet; they're such rich colors.”

In truth, Dean hadn't picked up a needle for more than household tasks since he'd arrived, and it was _wonderful_. There were more than enough tasks to fill his day, he had no need to do idle busy work. His plain, solid shirts covered him and protected him from the wind and rain; that was all he needed. It was so wonderfully freeing not to wear the feminine powder blue or pale yellow shirts he'd grown up in. They _did_ provide a touch of color in the house where he had sewn them into new valances, and pillows for the children. The plain curtains that Amelia had left kept the light out, but now Dean felt as though he'd left his own mark on the place.

“Of course, Dean,” Cas said, trying not to let his disappointment show. Anna had been so certain it would work! Once he'd explained how Dean had so many embroidered pieces, the option had been obvious. He'd shown he could provide for Dean, and now, offering him a bit of finery. No, he wasn't like other Omegas, but he could remember how Amelia preened when he'd given her some ribbons for her hair; surely there was something Dean wanted to show off a little? After all, his needlework _was_ unexpectedly impeccable.

Dean touched the skeins gently for a moment, then stood, picking up the little packet and nodding to the ladder to his little loft. “I'll just put these away…” His heart pounded, his hopes dashed as he reflected on Cas’ words. _Coming here was a fool’s errand_ , he thought bitterly. “Dinner will be finished shortly.” He turned aside, not paying much attention to the way Cas watched him climb the ladder. He tucked the threads into his trunk and closed it. Maybe in the winter time, if things were as bad as Cas said, perhaps then he would do something with them. Perhaps by winter it would not sting so badly to be reminded why Cas would give him such a gift.

When he came back down, Castiel was holding Benjamin, letting the little boy run his horse up and down his arm again. Dean smiled at the domestic sight. If he closed his eyes, he could let himself imagine that Cas was just waiting for Dean to come and join him. That Ben saw him as another father, and not just the man who made him lunch. But he forced that hopeful thought down as he bypassed the happy family and turned to the small kitchen area. There was no need to float on fantasy; he had a dinner to finish.

Later that evening after he'd finished the dishes, he gathered his sewing basket and sat at the table again. He spread one of his old shirts out on the table, smiling at the thought of Claire wearing the paisley patterned powder blue. It would suit her. He turned the shirt inside out and used a little piece of charcoal to start outlining the pattern shapes he would need, content to work in silence while he listened to Castiel tell the children a story as he put them to sleep. He'd kept that duty, despite Dean taking on most of the other child care roles, and Dean certainly didn't want to step on his toes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cas trudged up the hill, sweat rolling down his brow. His harvest was coming to an end, and he was looking forward to Dean's dinner. Harvest was the hardest time of the year, days of sunrise to sunset work. The non-stop toil was enough to make him question, that first year, whether he'd made the right choice. Now, though, he couldn't imagine going back to the stifling life in the city. There would be a chance to rest over the winter.

The glow from the house on the hill brought a smile to his face. It was late enough, he was certain Dean had put the pups to bed already. He didn't mind, though, because he was too tired to play with them and he knew Dean had taken very good care of them before they went to sleep.

Dean. His Omega still confused him deeply. Oh, he did anything Castiel asked, and more. The children were clean, the house was spotless. The garden, he had to admit, was thriving even more than when Amelia was alive. She'd never had a green thumb, though she had kept them in food for the winter. Dean, though, had already managed a garden that out produced hers by nearly double; they'd had to go into town for more jars for canning. But Dean himself? He was quiet, speaking rarely unless Castiel addressed him directly.

Lately, since he'd given Dean the floss, things had gotten even worse. After dinner, while Castiel was getting the children to bed, Dean would quietly clean up the dinner things and climb up into his loft. By the time the children were asleep, Dean's candle was invariably out, and gone was the opportunity for conversation or companionship. Castiel wasn't certain how to broach the topic; he'd thought he'd been clear in his letters and his ad, but perhaps Dean found him a less agreeable partner than he'd anticipated.

Tonight, though, Castiel felt himself relaxing as he pushed open the door. Dean's scent, heavy with the middle notes of leather, had come to feel like home. As strained as their relationship was, he had a great deal of respect for his Omega, and he still hoped that after this period of adjustment, Dean might come around. “Good evening, Dean.”

“Hello, Cas.” Dean sat at the table, sewing something. Castiel wasn't sure what it was that Dean was fixing this time, but he seemed to be constantly mending. He set aside the needle when Cas walked in. “Let me get your plate out of the oven,” he said, standing and moving over quickly. He seemed to be avoiding Cas' eyes, even as he set the plate in front of him. “Careful, the plate is warm.”

As soon as he'd set the plate down, Dean started to gather up his sewing, and Cas' stomach clenched. Was he really that repulsive, that Dean would not even sit with him while he ate his dinner? “Please, Dean, sit.” He tried to make his voice welcoming, but the speed with which Dean acquiesced to the request almost made Cas regret it.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Dean pointedly mending what turned out to be a pair of Castiel's trousers, while Cas chewed on the ham Dean had given him. Finally, Castiel couldn't take the quiet any longer. “How were the children? Did they give you any trouble going down for bed?”

“No...” Dean shook his head. “Ben was a little disappointed you couldn't be here, but I told him you'd try to do your best to come see him tomorrow at lunch. He understands that you are very busy.” He kept his eyes on the cloth. “Claire is pulling herself to standing regularly now…” He smiled, a small quirk of his lips that drew a matching smile from Castiel’s lips in response. “I'm sure it won't be long before she's walking.”

“Wonderful!” Castiel was sad that he would likely miss her first steps, but he was certain that Dean would take every precaution to keep her safe once she was mobile. “It has been such a relief to have you here, Dean,” Cas said earnestly. Even if it wasn't what he'd hoped, it was the truth. “You have taken to your duties so admirably... I truly hadn't realized how we were floundering until you arrived. The house and the children have not been so well maintained since... Well. Since Amelia. And the garden, your garden, is simply lovely. You have quite a green thumb.”

“Thank you,” Dean said stiffly. Duties. Of course. It still stung to hear the man, nominally his husband, talking about how he was fulfilling his 'duties'. At least as a housekeeper he might have been earning a salary, and he'd still be free to search out a partner who _wanted_ him. “I... I try. I am glad I'm managing to your satisfaction.”

Castiel winced at the stiff tone. He'd been trying for light, but apparently failed. “You most certainly are,” he agreed. “The only thing... I had hoped, perhaps, we might have more time for talking, and getting to know one another?”

Dean blinked, and shrugged a little bit. “If you like,” he agreed. He wasn't sure what, exactly, Cas wanted to talk about, but if that was what he wanted, Dean was willing enough to give it a try. “What did you want to talk about?”

Castiel was dismayed at Dean's reaction. He'd been hoping for something a bit more enthusiastic. But, he reminded himself, Dean had been hard at work just as Castiel had. Being at home did not imply that the work was any less strenuous. “How are you settling in? Are you enjoying it here?”

Well, that was about how Dean had expected any conversation to go. Simple enough to answer. “It's lovely,” he said honestly. “And it is wonderful to have my own garden. Mama always controlled the planting in New York. My little corner was never quite enough to do what I wanted.” He shrugged one shoulder. “It is good to have a space to grow things that you and the pups will enjoy.” 

“Well, it _is_ your garden now, Dean,” Cas reminded him. Didn’t Dean realize that, for better or worse, what was Cas’ was Dean’s?

Dean looked up in surprise, flushing faintly. “Thank you,” he said, looking down at the table for a moment. “I do enjoy the outdoors, when I get the chance. And the children are beautiful... It is an honor to care for them.” His days were missing, perhaps, the intimacy he'd naively thought he'd gain with a marriage, but he could live without that. After all, he'd lived without it in New York.

The answer, Castiel thought as he chewed, rang true yet... Incomplete. “But are you _enjoying_ it here?” All he'd heard from Dean was that he was finding fulfillment in his work; he hadn't heard anything to indicate that Dean was _happy_. He longed suddenly, as he had for the last several weeks, to stand and draw Dean into his arms. He wanted to soothe his Omega, to remind him that he was safe and wanted. Cas longed to touch Dean; he was a tactile Alpha, and though he knew Dean's boundaries, he wished he could cross them.

“It is very fulfilling,” Dean said, unconsciously echoing the phrase that had concerned Castiel earlier. “I... If you don't mind, I think I will retire. The children were quite active this evening, and I find myself ready for bed. I can wash the dishes in the morning, if you put them in the sink.” He smiled wanly and stood from the table, gathering his supplies and turning toward his ladder. “Good night, Castiel.”

“Goodnight, Dean,” Castiel replied, a knot of dread settling in his stomach. How had he misjudged so severely? All he'd wanted was to make Dean happy; he wouldn't have married him if he didn't think that Dean was going to be a good mate. Now, though, watching Dean escape up the ladder, all he could think was how sorely he'd disappointed him. Suddenly he wasn't hungry any longer, but he knew he needed to eat. He forced the pork and potatoes down, and washed the plate himself. Dean might have offered to do it in the morning, but Castiel couldn't imagine leaving the dish to sit all night when he was perfectly capable of washing one dish.

He set the plate to dry and padded to his bedroom to change clothes. As he settled into his pallet, he carefully pulled the handkerchief Dean had given him from its pouch. The scent on it had faded after so many months, and anyway, Dean's apple- leather-smoke now permeated the house thoroughly. Well; it did most places. But he studiously kept himself away from Cas' room, and so the one place Cas longed to smell him, on their marriage bed, he could smell only himself, and the faint ghost of Amelia's scent. So he buried his nose in the handkerchief as he lay down, breathing in deeply and hoping that perhaps, one day, he'd have the chance to truly know how their scents would mingle when they were at their peak.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dee...” The little boy's whimper broke Dean's heart, crying from the little hay tick pallet Dean had set up for him. He'd spent the night with his cousins, and when he returned he was miserable. He was hot with fever, his skin clammy, and Dean worried.

“It will pass,” Anna had assured him, showing him the poultice she'd used on her children. “Give him lots of broth and water, and keep him quiet. He will sleep, and when he wakes up he will be better.”

Dean shook his head, pouring another tin cup of water and padding back over. He sat down and gently pulled Ben into his lap. “Hey sweet boy,” he murmured, stroking his sweaty hair. “Here's some more water...” He'd been there nearly a month, and it seemed Ben had finally come around, though it was a pity that it had to be because of something like illness.

The boy flopped against Dean's shoulder, still whimpering, but he sipped the water when Dean put the cup to his lips. He buried his nose against Dean's neck, sniffing deeply. “Dee, want papa,” he mumbled.

“I know...” Dean sighed, kissing Ben's forehead and rocking him gently. “He'll be home soon. He had to go to work, but he'll be home soon.” Anna had dropped the children off that morning, after Cas had left for the day. Dean could hardly wait for Cas to return, because he knew that the little boy would feel much better once Cas was home. He knew he could recall Cas back from the field with the bell by the kitchen, but this certainly was no such emergency. No need to cause a panic when Anna had already brought what supplies he needed.

Dean had wasted no time in completing the poultice and setting Ben up on the little pad by the fire, but that really hadn’t been all. The afternoon passed with Dean trying to accomplish things, only to come back to the little whimpering boy to soothe him. Everything from mending to cleaning, to harvesting the little bit of the garden that needed it, had been stifled by one child or another calling for him.

As dinner time approached, Ben curled against Dean’s side while he fed Claire. Since he’d come home from Anna’s, he’d been unusually clingy, which had made it very difficult to accomplish anything. Dinner was nowhere near completed, and Dean had no idea how he was going to explain his unproductive day to Castiel. The sound of footsteps up the path meant his time to plan was up, and he brought Claire up to his shoulder to burp her as he heard the door open.

The grate of the wood perked Ben up, and he let out another little whimper. “Papa,” he said piteously. “Don’ feel goo’.”

Castiel paused in removing his boots, hiding the frisson of fear those three little words brought out in him. When so far from the city, any illness could take anyone, at any time. So soon after Amelia, he couldn’t help but imagine the worst. But he forced himself to calmness, removing his boots and walking over to kneel beside Dean so he could stroke Ben’s hair.

“You don’t?” He kept his voice gentle. “Oh, my… You are warm.” He looked up at Dean. “Has he been this way since he returned from Anna’s?” At Dean’s nod, he turned to press a kiss to Ben’s forehead. “I am sorry to hear that.”

Cas scooped his limp son into his arms, rocking him gently. “I know Dean has been taking good care of you.”

Ben nodded, wrinkling his nose a little. “Dee make me drink yukky tea,” he said, heaving the kind of sigh only put-upon two year olds could manage. “But he sing me pretty song…” He dropped his head back against Cas’ chest, and Castiel straightened, a small smile on his lips despite everything.

“I did not know you sang, Dean,” he said, gentle teasing in his tone.

“I don’t, much,” Dean said with a shrug. “Just… here, and there. No more than anyone else does.” He smiled when he realized Claire had drifted off to sleep. “Anna said he and his cousins have the same symptoms. I fear it is just going to need to run its course. She gave me a poultice for the fever, and a tea to help him to relax. Otherwise we have been having a quiet day.” He licked his lips, debating what to say about dinner, when Castiel nodded, interrupting him.

“I am going to wash up…” He glanced at the kitchen, where clearly no dinner was waiting. “Perhaps we can have cold fruit and cornbread for dinner? I find I am not much hungry.”

That was a blatant lie, but he could see the lines of stress around Dean’s eyes, and he could not bring himself to add to them by asking after the status of dinner. Anyway, cold fruit and broth was likely the best they could get into Ben anyway, so when Dean nodded, he passed Ben back over, reached once more to stroke the dozing boy’s hair, then turned to the basin.

Dean took Claire to the pup’s room and lay her down before returning to the kitchen to begin cutting up some berries and vegetables. There was fresh cold milk, too, and the cornbread was good, if not warm any longer. By the time Castiel had washed up, Dean had their dinner sitting on the table.

Cas scooped Ben up and sat down at the table with the boy in his lap. Dean watched as Cas fed him first, cutting the food into smaller pieces so Ben could chew them. Only when the boy had eaten his fill and turned his head into Cas’ chest, did Cas feed himself.

“I was thinking perhaps I would read tonight,” Cas said conversationally as Dean finished eating and started to clean up the remains of their meal. “If you would be interested in staying downstairs?” It seemed the only time he managed to get Dean to sit with him was if he were reading; otherwise, Dean escaped up to his room as soon as the dishes were done in the evenings.

Dean paused, but nodded. “That would… That would be nice, Cas,” he agreed. He’d come to appreciate _Journey to the Center of the Earth_ , and he was looking forward to hearing more of the story. Moreover, sitting and mending, the children arranged around Castiel near the fire, it felt like _home_. Like _family_ , and Dean hungered for that more than anything else. He would not turn that down.

By the time Dean finished his chores, Cas had changed Ben into his night clothes and had settled on the pallet by the fire with his book. Dean gathered some mending that he hadn’t gotten to earlier, what with the Ben-shaped limpet he’d had all afternoon, and settled with a candle at the table.

_“To prove the excellent Hardwigg's impatience, I solemnly declare that when the flowers in the drawing-room pots began to grow, he rose every morning at four o'clock to make them grow quicker by pulling the leaves. Having described my uncle, I will now give an account of our interview. He received me in his study; a perfect museum, containing every natural curiosity that can well be imagined--minerals, however, predominating. Everyone was familiar to me, having been catalogued by my own hand.”_

Dean listened to Castiel’s low, rumbling voice with a slow burn of pleasure. He forced his eyes down to the hem he was mending, fighting to keep his stitches straight and the flush from his cheeks.

Much too easily he could imagine that voice murmuring sweet nothings in his ear, speaking of beauty, or love, or _mates_. It was a foolish hope, of course. He had come to realize Cas’ expectations for him and he could accept that. After all, had he not desired to leave the city and find a new life? And he had. He knew he should try to stifle his fantasies, to just appreciate what he had, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t help but dream of the husband the letters had promised, the one who seemed to have disappeared the day he stepped off that stagecoach.

He was drawn from his melancholy thoughts with a hiss as he pricked a finger. Castiel paused in his reading. “Are you alright, Dean?”

“Oh, yes,” Dean said, blushing slightly. “Just pricked my finger… It is of no matter… I did not mean to interrupt.”

Castiel gave him another concerned look, but nodded and returned his attention to the book without further commentary when Dean waved him on.

It was equally difficult for Castiel to focus on his own task, despite Ben’s warm weight pressed against his side. Every few lines his eyes flickered up to where Dean sat mending. His fingers flew like lightning, nimble and repetitive. If only Dean were more receptive to his courting!

Castiel could well imagine those long, smooth fingers caressing him instead of rough cloth. How they would feel in their bed, playing across his skin. He shifted a little, guilty and slightly aroused. Dean did _not_ deserve to be fantasized about so rudely. If he ever elected to accept Castiel’s suit, that would be one thing, but until then, Dean deserved the courtesy to not be ogled in his own home.

Despite his best intentions, it was still quite a challenge to refocus on his book, soothing Ben with gentle strokes to his hair. About the time his voice was giving out, he heard Dean moving about in the kitchen. He purposely did not look up, keeping his attention firmly on the words on the page.

When he reached the end of the paragraph he paused, and looked up, to find Dean standing near with two mugs. “For you and Ben,” he explained, his voice soft as to not disturb the children more than necessary. “Anna said it will help his fever, and you could use some tea and honey for your voice.”

Castiel watched Dean carefully, a smile on his lips. Was that a flush on Dean’s cheeks? It was hard to say in the warm light of the fire. He set the book aside and took the mugs reverently. “Thank you, Dean,” he said, letting their fingers brush as he took the mugs. “I most certainly could use this.”

Dean nodded, appearing to hesitate briefly before he took a step back. “Claire is abed and I feel it may be that time for me, as well, if you can manage Ben on your own?”

Cas suppressed the flutter of disappointment he always felt on seeing Dean retire to his own room, instead of _their_ room, and the marriage bed he ought to be sharing with him. He longed for a place where their scents could mingle and meld, and not for the first time he cursed his brilliant idea to give Dean a room so far from his own. “Of course,” he agreed with a forced smile. “Thank you for taking such good care of Ben today. I would not see him in the care of anyone else.”

Dean’s smile in response was weak, but it was only natural he would be tired, having dealt with a sick pup all afternoon. “I could do no less,” he demurred. “Ben is such a sweet boy. Good night, Castiel.”

“Good night, Dean,” Cas replied. And if his eyes perhaps lingered a tad too long on Dean’s retreating buttocks, well. Ogling may be unbecoming, but Gabriel certainly was not around to comment, and until Dean accepted his suit, he would take what he could get.


	5. In Which Things Run to Heat and to Cold

**Chapter Five: In Which Things Run to Heat and to Cold**

  


_**September 1, 1893** _

_Dear Mama,_

_The harvest season went very well. My garden is harvested and ready for the winter, and the house and cellar are full to the brim. I hadn't realized how much work it was to can as much as we will need for the rest of the year, but I can say that it was pleasant to work alongside Castiel's sister, Anna. As I said in my earlier letters she runs the inn in town. She graciously allowed me to use her kitchen for most of my canning, in trade for some of the cans. She is the one who has begun to help me learn to piece a quilt, as well... I've saved scraps of my old shirts, and some of the clothes that Ben and Claire have outgrown. She says I have the makings of a lovely one. I wish I could show you._

_Castiel is well; he has been working very hard, though he says that it will settle now that harvest is over. Caring for the livestock is still heavy work, but will not require as much all day attention._

_I hope that all is well at home. Please tell Alpha Singer thank you for his wedding gift; the candlesticks will be very useful as the days grow shorter. The tablecloth is lovely as well; it will be most cherished for our special table on Christmas and Easter. Thank you for sending it, mama, I know that you put much time and effort into it._

_You know, mama, I don’t think I’ve told you anything about this wonderful place. Not of my new home, but of the country. I know that Cas has told me how fierce it is in the winter months. But, the landscape, mama, I so wish you could see it. The ground is so fertile, so rich. And the mountains for which this state is named, they are majestic! I can’t tell you what a lovely view I have at any time. The trees; there is a swath of them that ring the ranch. And the leaf colors, mama, they are just beautiful. The reds like fresh wine, the yellows, you know the color of that small settee in your morning room, it’s like that. And against the dark green of the pines it’s quite a sight._

_The air is starting to be a bit crisp, but still for the most part the days here have been temperate. And, now, that the harvest is in, we’re trying to enjoy them before the winter snows keep us indoors. I’m thinking about doing a winter garden. I wonder, though, if it’s not too late in the season? We don’t see a lot of broccoli here, but Cas was able to procure some seeds. Could you imagine it, fresh broccoli from my own garden! I find gardening very satisfying._

_Are you and the Ladies Guild holding the Autumn Charity Ball again this year? Last year’s was such a rousing success, I’m sure this year’s would be an equal success. Oh, did you hear about Kevin? I got word from him only last week that he’s being courted! Have you met this Alpha? What is he like? I know you’ll tell me what Kevin will conveniently not._

_And, now, I’ve got to get back to my work._

_Give Jess, Sam and Father my love. Laundry awaits!  
Much love,_

_Dean_

“Ben! Would you _please_ settle?” Dean felt his nerves fraying as the little boy ran around the house. His sister giggled, clapping her hands as her brother circled her over and over. Normally the rambunctious child amused Dean, but not today.

The chill winds from the north were blowing in as the fall colors filled in the trees. The cracks in the sod were whistling, and Dean shivered. “Ben!” He winced as he shouted, and sighed heavily when Ben burst into tears. That, of course, set Claire to sobbing as well.

“Hey, hey now...” He set aside the dress he was working on for Claire and advanced on the two. Claire let him pick her up, but Ben darted away, going to sit on his little pad of skins and blankets by the fire. Dean understood why he would be so nervous for Dean to get close; Dean never shouted, rarely even got angry. Still, that didn't stop the harsh flash of hurt at his rejection.

He began to walk in small circles, rubbing Claire's back as he did, and shivered as a breeze blew through the open window. He hadn't thought he was so hot, but then, he'd been quite focused earlier. Now that he wasn't, as Claire finally started to doze in his arms, he realized he was sweating.

An itch spread under his skin, a restlessness that had been brewing all day. He realized he'd been jumping from task to task, unable to focus. Cas had gone into town with Gabriel to make some repairs on the inn; he said he'd bring dinner back with him, for Dean not to cook. Dean couldn't really say that he minded that, though; his stomach was too unsettled for food anyhow.

Cas. The sun was sinking; Dean hoped that Cas would return soon. Ben's wailing made him want to gather the boy close and soothe him; it also drove nails into Dean's skull. The fact that he couldn't offer comfort was enough to drive him mad. He wished Cas were there; just his presence, his scent amplified by hard work and sun, would be enough to help. He knew it would. He didn't even care that Cas didn't want him that way; he needed him anyway.

He heard the sound of the horses bringing the cart up the drive, and apparently Ben did too, because his sniffles settled. A few minutes later Cas' scent wafted in through the open window moments before he pushed the door open.

“Hello, Dean,” he said, smiling at his Omega, before Ben ran up and threw himself at Cas. “Oof... And hello to you, Ben,” he said, kneeling to pull him up into his arms. “Hey...” he wiped the tears gently from the boy's cheeks. “What's wrong?”

“Dee's mean,” Ben sniffled, burying his nose in Cas' collar. “I was playin' an he _yelled_ an' Claire was cryin'...”

Castiel frowned; it was the first time any such complaint had been made, and he looked up at his Omega concernedly. “Dean?” And then he took a deep breath, deep enough his nostrils flared. His pupils dilated as he realized what the scent was. Heat. “Dean, are you...” He could not quite bring himself to complete the question, but Dean nodded anyway.

“Yes. I'm sorry. I... I didn't realize; I was so busy. It.. It snuck up on me.” The flush on his cheeks was likely equal parts embarrassed and the Heat.

“Of course,” Castiel agreed; after all, they _had_ been quite busy, and he was not yet used to Dean's Heat scent, to track when his smell was changing, as he used to be able to do with Amelia. “I will take the children to Anna's.” He shifted Ben on his hip. “Are there provisions that you need?”

Dean shook his head. The scent of his Alpha had triggered the Heat, and he was rapidly passing from the early stages to that frightening one, where he couldn't think, couldn't plan, could only _feel_ , and all that existed was his need to be bred. “No... No, there's plenty...” He swallowed, and when Cas came to take Claire from his arms it was all he could do not to follow the Alpha with his whole body, to bury himself in that tantalizing scent that promised what he'd been needing since he hit breeding age. _Finally_ he thought, his body singing with the promise of being fulfilled.

Castiel took the children into his room, packing a small bag and then emerging. “How long do your Heats last, Dean?” An utterly practical question, one that was getting harder and harder to formulate as he fought the urge to push Dean down and _taste_. Would he taste like apples, sharp and tart? Or salty and musky, like the leather-smoke undertones in his scent? Only the presence of his pups, their mellow, unpresented scents, kept him grounded enough not to do something he and Dean would both regret later.

“Three... Three days. Maybe four.” It was so hard to form the words; Dean was grateful for the pups, the way they let him keep his head that little bit longer. He only realized Cas was leaving as the Alpha opened the door. He clenched, feeling moistness growing between his legs. It had been a long time since he'd attempted to bring himself pleasure, and he'd almost forgotten the strangeness of his hole loosening and lubricating.

“I will return, Dean,” Cas promised, taking the pups to the door. “Later. Just... Take care of yourself.” He pulled the door closed, and Dean keened as he heard the latch.

Logically he knew Cas needed to go. He needed to take the pups to Anna, where they would be safe. In the old days, their friends and family would already be there, to clear the space, watch the pups. Now they had to take precautions, and that meant Cas needed to leave. Dean couldn't bring himself to care about that, though. His Alpha was _leaving_.

As he heard the horses trot away, taking Cas and the pups, the Heat continued to crest. _Take care of yourself_ , Cas had said, and the order from his Alpha, in his Heat frazzled brain, stuck. Dean turned and climbed up into his loft with shaking limbs. Buried deep in the bottom of his chest was the toy Mary had given him for his first heat. It was made of ash wood, and it was a light golden color, polished to a smooth sheen. There were three bumps on it, each larger than the last, until the largest was nearly the size of a full knot. It wasn't nearly as good as the real thing, or so Dean had heard, but it would do until Cas came back. It always had.

He took the dildo and pulled at his clothes; he felt uncoordinated, weak, but he managed to get them off. The air felt even colder on his overheated skin, and he dropped onto the feather bed with a groan. Swallowing hard, he rolled onto his back and spread his legs. His cock was hard and leaking, but he bypassed that, sliding his fingers just behind his balls to the opening there. The first brush of his fingers was electric, and he bit back a sob.

“Cas,” he moaned, wishing for his Alpha's fingers instead of his own as he pressed inside. He was slick, already loose, and so he fumbled with his free hand for the dildo. The first press of the wood drew a groan from his lips, and he turned his head into the bed so he could smell Cas as he pushed harder.

It never seemed hard to take the whole thing, and this was no exception. Dean writhed on the bed, free hand roaming his body as he arched. “Cas... Cas, _please_ ,” he begged the empty room. Where was his Alpha? He said he'd be back, he _said_ he was coming!

Eventually Dean brought himself to climax with a sob, but it wasn't enough. It was never enough, without an Alpha there. Within a few minutes the Heat was rising again, but Cas still wasn't there.

Dean lost himself in the haze of the Heat. He didn't leave his loft; when he was coherent enough to recognize that he was hungry and thirsty, he didn't feel strong enough to climb the ladder. By the time he'd feel up to it, the Heat was rising again. By the time the Heat passed, three days later, he lay on the bed, shivering and miserable. His stomach clenched with hunger, and his mouth was dry as a bone, but all that paled in comparison to the feeling of _abandonment_ he knew he had no right to feel. Cas wasn't his _mate_ , had made that clear time and again... So why did he feel like Cas should have been there? _Not even good enough for your husband_ , Dean thought miserably.

After what felt like hours, though probably it wasn't, Dean managed to roll himself to the side of the bed. He felt sticky and disgusting, covered in his own fluids. At home, Mary always arranged for a hot bath the day after his Heat, and plenty of light soups and biscuits, things easy on his stomach. Here, Dean knew he had to fend for himself. His head spun alarmingly as he sat up; he knew he had to drink something.

He wrapped himself in a blanket, not trusting himself to try and actually dress, and carefully descended the ladder. He stumbled to the pitcher of water he kept near the sink and filled a cup with shaking hands. It tasted a little musty, but he downed it all and then poured another. When he'd finished that he filled the little basin; the cold water did nothing for his sore muscles, but after a few minutes of rinsing he at least felt clean enough to try and eat something.

He was just cutting a slice of bread from the loaf he'd made before his Heat started, when he heard the latch on the door. Dean startled, and then hissed in pain as the knife skittered off the hardened loaf and bit into his palm. He realized that he'd dropped the blanket when the cold air flowed across his body, and he flushed deeply.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel's voice came from the doorway, and then suddenly there was a small thud, and the sound of boots rustling on the floor as Cas turned around. “I'm sorry, I did not realize you would still be... indisposed,” he said apologetically.

“It's fine,” Dean managed, his voice shaking as he knelt to pick up the blanket. He wrapped it back around his shoulders, and couldn't keep the hurt from his voice as he turned to face Cas. “You never came back,” he said, voice shaking.

“I...” Castiel turned back to face him, frowning and clearly confused. “I encouraged you to take care of yourself. I did not believe you wished for my presence. I have brought you food; Anna said you would likely be hungry, no matter how well you fed yourself in the last few days.”

“Fed myself?” Dean asked incredulously, a shaky laugh escaping before he could stop it. “I didn't. Or drink, either... You know, at home? My mother would come and check on me, every few hours, to make sure I was eating and drinking. It wasn’t exactly foremost on my mind.” He wrapped the blanket tighter around his shoulders, hissing as he realized the cut on his hand was bleeding worse than he'd thought.

“Dean...” Cas fell silent when it became apparent that Dean wasn't listening to him. He took in the Omega, and his eyes widened when he saw how weak he appeared; his face was drawn, dark circles under his eyes. He looked truly miserable. And the blood leaking from Dean's clenched fist made every protective instinct rise up in him.

“She always said when I found an Alpha... They would take care of me.” He sat at the table abruptly, the chair rocking under him as his legs suddenly felt much shakier than they had before. “I don't think I can do this anymore.”

“What?” The sudden topic change was jarring, but Cas abandoned the basket and crossed the room to Dean’s side. The blood leaking from Dean’s hand couldn’t be ignored any longer, and he reached out to help. “Dean, your hand.” He took Dean's hand without thinking, urging his Omega to open so he could see the gash on his palm. The touch of skin to skin was electric; Dean so rarely let him touch, and yet he was focused much more urgently on the injury. He hissed in sympathy and shook his head. “Let me bandage this.”

Dean sat, numb. Cas was close and that scent he had been craving for days suddenly seemed to fill his head. He shook his head, and watched mutely as Cas bustled around to get the bandages, a tight white scrap of one of Cas' old shirts which had been beyond mending. He just stared straight ahead, waiting for Cas to finish, to get out of his space. He didn't.

When he'd finished bandaging, Cas sat next to him. “Dean, you need to eat,” he urged, this time reaching for the basket he'd set down. It was a stretch, but he managed to bring it over. He pulled out a crock, a loaf of bread, some butter, some cold chicken. Dean stared straight ahead as Cas cut him some chicken and buttered a thick slice of bread, then poured him a glass of milk.

“I can't do this anymore,” Dean said again, this time his voice a little stronger. He looked up and met Cas' eyes. “I thought I could, but I can't.”

“Dean...” This time the words penetrated, and Castiel looked up, his heart clenching. He'd thought he had time, time to woo Dean, to bring him around. “What are you talking about?”

“This!” Dean flung his hand wide, heedless of the fact that it dropped his blanket down around his waist. “I... I get it, I do... I understand that you are not... attracted to me, that way. That I am not what you wanted... I'm not soft, or feminine or...” He shrugged, too tired to come up with a coherent argument. He just knew that if Cas had wanted him, if Cas _truly_ felt he was a good husband, he would not have abandoned him during a _Heat_. 

“That is not true! Dean, I have never desired femininity or softness of you; you are _exactly_ what I wanted.” He swallowed hard. How had he possibly come across that way? The few short months they’d been together, Castiel had started to feel for Dean what he had thought he would never feel again after Amelia, and yet Dean thought he was not interested at all? “What made you think that?”

“How about the fact that you never touch me? That my bed and yours are not the same, or even in the same room?” Dean didn't even try to keep the venom out of his voice, despite the exhaustion that seeped through as well. “That you barely _talk_ to me, except to compliment me on how well I manage my _duties_? I did not move here to be your housekeeper, Castiel, but I could tolerate that.” He was on a roll now, standing and wrapping the blanket tightly around his waist, the sandwich forgotten. He spoke right over Castiel's aborted attempts to end Dean's tirade.

“I was fine with that, truly. The children are perfect, and I love them. But... I thought when I was married at least I would not have to do... this, myself.” His voice was hoarse, and the hurt broke through the anger. “If you had advertised for a housekeeper, I might still have answered, and at least I would not have been abandoned. I would have looked for a man who _wanted_ to marry me, not one so repulsed by my Heat that they fled.”

“I never wanted that of you!” Castiel felt his voice rising to match Dean's. “I never wanted anything _less_ than a full partner! You are the one who rejected me,” he said, standing. “I have been _trying_ to woo you!” He regretted shouting, but _how_ could Dean _possibly_ think that? Let alone that Cas was repulsed by his Heat? Utter foolishness.

“To woo me?” Dean's voice was hard still, all these weeks of hurt and sorrow welling up. “How?”

Castiel bit back a bitter laugh. “I built you a room,” he said, gesturing up to Dean’s loft. “A space for you to have as your own, to den in for yourself. A place where you could feel safe, and in control.” He stood as well, though mostly because Dean was wavering on his feet again, and he didn’t want him to fall.

“I procured a chicken for you,” Cas said, frowning. “Much before when I usually would; I wanted to show you I could provide for you and our pups. And you barely touched it!” He shook his head. “I understand that perhaps it was not as clear a message as it could have been, but when I tried to speak of it, you went to bed.” He advanced on Dean, his hands up in the air to indicate his harmlessness. “You always went to bed; any time I thought we might have a moment to ourselves.” He swallowed hard. “I thought you did not wish to speak with me.”

Cas smiled sheepishly. “I know that we do not have the finery here that you had at home, but I did not wish for you to feel the lack. I gave you embroidery floss; your shirts and your handkerchiefs were so lovely, I was certain you would want to embellish some of your new clothing. But you never touched it; in fact, you have been cutting up your lovely clothes to make...” He indicated the valances, the pillow on the floor. “Decorations. You never welcomed my advances; if I bumped you, you tensed, if we brushed hands, you pulled away.” He swallowed hard. “I wanted to make you feel welcome, Dean, not pushed into something you weren't ready for.”

Dean's heart skipped a beat, some of the anger melting away at Cas' earnest words. He had not actually heard Cas speak so many words at a time, unless he was reading. “I never knew,” he said after a moment. “But if you were trying to woo me, trying to... Prove something, why didn't you _say that_? Why did you keep talking about _duties_ , and how well I was filling them?”

Castiel blushed. “I am afraid I have always been a rather formal speaker, Dean,” he said with a shrug. “I assure you, I never intended any harm. Since we began to correspond, I have wanted nothing more than a partnership with you.” He tipped his head, still blushing deeply. “I confess to spending more time with the handkerchief you sent me than was perhaps strictly appropriate.” He advanced a little closer to Dean, setting a hand on his Omega's shoulder. The residual Heat left Dean running a few degrees hotter than normal. Dean was trembling, too, with the exertion. He ran his hand gently up to the back of Dean’s neck, squeezing gently, fighting the urge to draw him into an embrace. “If I had known you were feeling this way, I would have spoken more clearly. I apologize, Dean, and... I never should have left you alone for your Heat. I did not wish to force myself on you, but clearly I should have attempted to ensure we were both clear in our expectations.”

Dean shivered at the cool touch to his shoulder, and his anger deflated. “I thought when I married you, that we would be _married_ ,” he said finally. “I thought we would be partners. _That_ was what I wanted, the reason I came here.”

“I assure you,” Castiel said, reaching down and tugging the blanket back up around Dean's shoulders. “That is precisely what I want.” He gently urged Dean toward the table. “Now, please... Sit. Eat something. I am going to go and change the sheets on the bed...” He purposely let his hand trail across Dean's shoulders, and watched as his Omega shivered, but didn't pull away. The Alpha in him crowed; perhaps his Omega was not lost to him after all. “After you have eaten, I imagine you would like a nap.” He hesitated a moment. “If you would allow it, I would very much like to join you.”

Dean sat in the chair, and looked up at Cas. A small smile crossed his lips, still chapped and dry from three days without water. “That would be nice,” he agreed, hope sparking in his heart once more. He nibbled on the food, preferring to eat just the bread. The meat was much too heavy on his stomach.

Castiel climbed the ladder, and a few minutes later he reemerged, with the bundle of Dean's dirty clothes and sheets, and one of Dean's night shirts over one arm. “We can deal with these later.” He eyed how much food Dean had eaten, but didn't comment. Instead, he smiled. “Here...” He offered Dean the night shirt. “Why don't you get dressed and head up? I will be up shortly... Anna sent some tea she told me you should drink, to help to replenish your body.”

“Thank you,” Dean said, surprised by how thoughtful Cas was; nearly doting, in fact. He wondered how much was guilt, for abandoning Dean to his Heat alone, and how much was how he reacted after a Heat always. He decided it didn't much matter, and took the nightshirt. It felt much better to have himself covered with the shirt, and he bundled the blanket into his arms. “Don't be long,” he said, after a moment's consideration, before heading up to the bed.

The sheets were clean and cool against his skin, and Dean bundled himself under the covers as quickly as he could. His eyelids were already growing heavy, but he fought to wait for Cas to arrive. Now that he might have someone to share the space with, he didn't want to miss a moment.

As promised, Cas appeared with some grassy smelling tea in two mugs. He smiled as he passed one over to Dean. “Drink, and then sleep,” he ordered, though it was clearly intended to be a kindness. He toed off his boots and sat on the edge of the bed, sliding tentatively under the covers in his full clothes. Dean didn't mind, even if it meant a little dirt under the covers. It was just nice to have Cas' scent, fresh and strong, filling his nose.

“Yes, sir,” Dean replied teasingly, his chest finally feeling loose enough to speak openly, but the flash of hurt in Cas' eyes killed the smile on his lips.

“Please, Dean,” Castiel said, shaking his head. “I wanted a spouse, not a servant. I... Hope we can be that, for each other.”

Dean sipped his tea. It tasted as grassy as it smelled, with a sharp little bite at the end that left him smacking his lips a little. But he nodded to Cas and, as he finished the mug he slid closer in the bed. “I would like it very much if you would hold me,” he said, surprising himself with his boldness. But Cas was his husband, and in his bed, and Dean still felt drained and a little vulnerable after his Heat.

Castiel smiled as he set aside his mug. “As you wish, Dean,” he said, opening his arms.

Dean slid into them and dropped his head awkwardly to Castiel's shoulder. His scent was concentrated there, so close to his throat, and Dean didn't even try to hide how deeply he was breathing in. “Y' smell good,” he murmured, surprised to find himself sleepy already.

Castiel ran a soothing hand up and down his back, smiling a little. “As do you, Dean,” he said, daring to bend and brush a kiss against Dean's brow. “Sleep, now. We'll talk when you awake.”

Dean snorted indelicately, shaking his head. “‘M’still angry with you,” he mumbled against Cas’ shoulder. “Jus’ so you know.”

Castiel chuckled. “That is fair,” he said, his hand shifting to stroke through Dean’s hair. “We can talk when you awake,” he repeated. “Go to sleep, Dean.”

And despite how he wanted to stay awake and relish the new feeling of warmth and protection being wrapped in Cas' arms afforded, Dean nodded, and his eyes closed. In moments, he was asleep.


	6. In Which Dean and Cas Reach an Accord

**Chapter Six: In Which Dean and Castiel Reach an Accord**

  


Castiel had quietly removed himself from the bed leaving Dean resting peacefully. He rifled through his copious coat pocket to retrieve the small heavy envelope that was scented with the same slightly spice scent of his husband but with the distinct feminine notes of lily.. That’s how he knew that this could only from Dean’s mother.

Her letters always brought a smile to his husband. Cas hoped this one would be no different. He eased himself back into the bed and smiled softly as Dean curled back into his arms as if he’d never left. He felt himself drifting off again.

Dean awoke feeling vaguely sore and aching, as he always did after a Heat, but this time something was different. He was pleasantly warm, and the most delicious scent filled his head. He took a deep breath in and smiled when he realized he was still wrapped in Castiel’s arms. 

Then his head reasserted itself and he had to fight not to jerk back. His memory from earlier in the day was hazy, but he remembered fighting, _shouting_ at Cas. He slowly pulled away, his cut hand stinging as he pushed against the feather bed. It was too late, though, because his movements woke Cas, and he was face to face with the bright blue eyes he had been daydreaming about for months.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said, his sleep roughened voice sending a frisson of arousal through Dean again. He tamped it down as Cas smiled at him and shifted up in the bed. “Are you feeling better?”

He nodded, sitting up slowly. He regretted the loss of warmth as Cas’ hand fell away from his shoulders, but he knew he needed a little distance. It wasn’t fair to be faced with a fantasy like that right after he woke up. “Let’s go downstairs,” he said, clearing his throat. “I think… I think we need to talk.” 

“Of course.” Castiel seemed much more awake as he slid out of the bed, and Dean’s mouth went dry as he watched him move. It wasn’t _fair_ that he could be so attractive despite just waking up. 

“I’ll meet you down there… I’m, ah, I’m going to get dressed.” He knew he couldn’t have this conversation in his nightshirt, but it was a conversation he absolutely had to have. He realized he hadn’t been lying, before, about his inability to go on like this. If he could not be Castiel’s partner, his spouse, in every way that counted, then he might as well be back East. 

“Of course,” Castiel said again, smiling a little as he gathered the mugs from their tea. “I will go and heat the soup Anna sent earlier. Join me whenever you are ready.” He climbed down the ladder into the early evening light afforded by the windows, and a moment later Dean could hear him puttering in the kitchen. 

Dean took a deep breath, scrubbing his fingers through his hair. He hissed as his hand protested the rough treatment, and he glanced down. Red had seeped through the bandage, but it did not appear to still be bleeding. He decided the bandage change could wait until after their conversation. He dressed relatively quickly; his stomach rumbled in earnest, and he looked forward to the chicken he had not been able to eat before his nap.

Finally clothed in respectable clothing, he descended the ladder to find Castiel setting the table and filling bowls with hot soup. Cas looked up and smiled. “Do you feel better?”

“Marginally,” Dean said, warily, as he stepped toward the table. He sat slowly and let Cas put chicken and a bowl of soup in front of him. “Thank you. I will need to thank Anna as well… This is most welcome.” 

Castiel chuckled. “Yes, she certainly knows how to take charge of a situation.” He set another steaming mug of the grassy tea in front of Dean. “Here, drink this; Anna said it was important to get you to have at least three mugs of it. It is good for your blood, she says.”

“It is certainly… interesting,” Dean said, though truly the first mug had not been bad. He didn’t mind it, but he was too hungry to worry about tea. He took a big bite of his chicken, biting back a groan of pleasure. Cas sat across from him, though he seemed much more engrossed in watching Dean than in eating his own food.

Dean had mostly finished his sandwich before he noticed, but when he did, a flush crept up his cheeks. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

Cas smiled, ducking his head a little. “No, no… I… Simply have not had much time to just look at you. You are a very visually arresting man, Mister Novak.” 

Dean’s blush deepened. He never had taken compliments well. “Uh, thanks.” Still, the ice broken, Dean put his sandwich down. “Cas… I think we need to talk. Because I meant what I said earlier. I think.” He chuckled weakly. “To be honest, it’s all a little fuzzy. But I… I can’t go back to the way we were before. I can’t look at you and hope that one day I’m going to get to be with you, to wish I really _were_ married to you. If a marriage is not what you want, I cannot continue.”

His Alpha sighed, setting down his spoon and reaching across the table to touch Dean’s fingertips. “Earlier you said you wished I had been clearer, that I had simply said what was on my heart. If you would permit me…?” He waited for Dean’s nod before standing, coming around the table, and then kneeling next to Dean’s chair.

“Dean.” He took Dean’s hand, caressing the palm gently around the bandage. “You are everything I wanted in a spouse. After Amelia… I thought I could never feel that way about anyone again. And then we began corresponding, and suddenly there was light in my life again. Every letter of yours brightened my days for weeks; Gabriel cursed me as a besotted fool.” He chuckled, clearing his throat a little as emotion choked him.

“Your being here has been both a joy and a frustration. I did not wish to push you into anything you were not ready for; you appeared so nervous and tense when you arrived.” He squeezed Dean’s hand. “I have been courting you for three months, and if you desire, I will court you until the end of time. But… I would hope, perhaps, that you would be amenable to a change in our relationship starting now.” He looked straight up, meeting Dean’s eyes intently.

Dean squirmed under the force of that gaze. “Dean Winchester,” Cas said, and Dean shivered at the return to his given name. After all of that, all the romance and flowery language, was this it? Did Castiel mean to end it all? No, surely not… He would not still be on one knee if that were the case. Oh. Oh. He was on one knee. Dean’s breath grew short as Castiel squeezed his fingers. “I would be most honored if you would be my husband and my mate, to join me in my bed and in my den, at my hearth and in my home, to live and love until the end of our days.”

The repetition of part of their vows drew Dean’s breath away completely, and tears welled in his eyes. Damned Heat, he always felt shaky and a bit weepy for a few days after. But he nodded; he could not ask for anything clearer. A great vise was lifted from his heart and he smiled, clearing his throat and wiping broadly at his eyes. Cas, wisely, said nothing about the tears.

“Yes,” Dean said when he felt he could speak. “Yes, Castiel Novak. I will be your husband and your mate. I will bear your mark and your pups. Your den will be mine, your hearth and bed and home, to live and love, until the end of our days.”

Castiel surged up from the floor then, and drew Dean to his feet and into his arms, kissing him soundly. Dean melted against him. _Yes._ Every inch of him felt _right_ , sated and safe. A surge of heat, less intense than the mating urge he’d felt before, but no less potent, shot straight to his groin, and Dean suddenly cursed the clothes he’d chosen to wear. 

Tea forgotten on the table, Dean’s hands went to Castiel’s belt, fumbling for the buckle. “I want you,” Dean whispered between kisses. “I want… I _need_ you, Castiel.”

“You have me,” Cas answered, his hands going to Dean’s own belt. “You have me.” He urged Dean backwards, toward the ladder. “Your room, this time…” he nipped at Dean’s lips. “Until we can get the bed… Back downstairs.” He chuckled softly, slotting their hips together. It would be a wonder if they made it to the top of the ladder. “I will not have our first time together on a hay tick.”

Dean nodded absently, his hands wandering up under Cas’ shirt as they stumbled together toward the entrance to Dean’s loft. “I just… I want…” And he kissed Castiel again, tongues sliding together. He wanted to taste it all, to feel him. He needed _Cas_ , and the fact that he could so suddenly have him was _dizzying_.

 

They tripped over the edge of the ladder and Cas grabbed Dean's arm, steadying them both. They kissed a moment longer, but it was less frantic, now the moment was broken. "Go up," Cas urged, sliding a hand down Dean's arm. 

Breathing hard, Dean nodded. He turned and scrambled up the ladder, excitement bubbling in his belly. He could hear Castiel behind him, and Dean wasted no time in getting to the bed as soon as he cleared the ladder. Cas was on him a moment later, pulling at his shirt until he had it off.

"Dean," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "You smell so good." He pressed his nose against Dean's throat, breathing deeply and leaving little nipping kisses. 

Dean arched into the kisses, stroking his way up Cas' back and then tugging at his shirt. "Please, I want to feel you too, Cas." He leaned in and kissed him again, turning his head until their lips met. Cas' shirt tangled around their arms as they kept kissing, finally breaking apart only long enough for Dean to pull it all the way off. 

Cas' stroking fingers sent sparks of pleasure across Dean's skin as he traced his collarbone, down to his nipples, up his sides. The slight callouses made his fingers catch on Dean's hair, but the sensation seemed to go straight to his groin; Dean had never been so hard outside of Heat in his life.

He rutted up against Castiel, groaning as his cock, still trapped in his pants, rubbed against the rough fabric. Castiel knelt up, a wicked grin on his face. “You are lovely,” he murmured, his fingers returning to Dean's chest. He purposely stroked along Dean's ribs, firm enough not to tickle, and watched Dean squirm. “I am going to make you feel so good...”

“A-are you?” Dean tried to make his voice firm, but he'd never felt like this before, so he thought he could be forgiven a little bit of shaking. He arched up as Castiel traced his ribs, and then untied the laces on his pants. He worked the buttons and then pulled them down, leaving Dean hard and leaking in the cool evening air.

“I am.” Castiel wasn't fazed that he had never been with a man before; he knew what _he_ liked, and he'd been with Amelia long enough to have some idea what else might feel good to an Omega. He leaned in and began to press kisses down the center of Dean's chest. He paused to suckle on a nipple, smiling at the hiss of pleasure, and then worked his way down Dean's body toward his groin.

“Cas?” Dean's voice shook in question as Cas kept pressing kisses down his chest, onto his flat stomach. His Alpha didn't speak, but his fingers pressed up along the insides of Dean's thighs, urging him to spread. A flush spread up Dean's face; he couldn't believe _this_ was happening. 

Castiel reveled in the small noises Dean was making. He loved the flush that spread across Dean's skin; was that embarrassment or pleasure? He hoped it was both. Another time he knew he'd chase that flush with his tongue, tease it to see how much further he would flush. This time, though, the heady scent of arousal filled his nose, and he slid down even further to nose against the seam of Dean's leg.

He pressed kisses to the soft skin there, pinning Dean's hips down as he began to suckle a bruise on the join of his hip. A thrill of possessiveness rose in him and he lifted his head. One hand slid up to Dean's cock, jacking him slowly, while he smiled a crocodile smile. “Am I the first one to touch you here?” 

Dean keened; he'd jerked himself off, of course, but there was _something_ about it being _Cas_. It took a long moment before he was able to recognize the question, too lost in the sensation of callouses and the slick slide of Cas' grip. Finally the words penetrated, and Dean nodded. “Yes,” he said, his hands clenching in the blankets. “If you would... _Please_ , Cas...” He didn't know what he was asking for, except more. More touch, more kisses, more _something_.

“As you wish,” Castiel said, that little thrill rising to a roar in his head; Dean was _his_ , and he was going to show him how good a choice that was. He dropped his head and engulfed Dean's length in his mouth. He pinned Dean's hips and swallowed him down, suppressing a grin as Dean cried out in pleasure again. 

“Mmm...” The flavor was more intense here; tangy and sweet-tart, like the apples in Dean's scent. Castiel sucked greedily, stroking along the inside of his thighs. The sounds Dean was making above him simply fed the fire of his desire for Dean. 

Dean sobbed with pleasure as Cas swallowed him down. “Holy fuck _Cas_ ” he gasped, hands scrabbling at the bed. “Cas I... Oh God...” He could hardly believe this was _happening_. Cas was... He was _sucking_ him! His hips bucked against his will when Cas' exploring fingers slid behind his balls into his channel. So different from the smooth wood, or his own fingers, and Dean bucked back against them. The slight burn there was nothing compared to the pleasure humming through him.

“I'm gonna... Fuck, Cas, I'm gonna...” Castiel swallowed again, taking Dean to the root just as Dean bucked his hips and climaxed with a scream. He slipped a second finger into Dean's body, stretching him and stroking as Dean shuddered through the rest of his climax. He pulled off with a pop, smiling a Cheshire smile as he slid up Dean's body. He slipped his fingers free, and pressed a kisses to Dean's throat, his lips, anywhere he could reach.

His cock pressed, hard and hot, against Dean's leg through his pants. “You are so... deliciously lovely,” he murmured, nuzzling Dean's throat and breathing deeply. The heady scent was different now, sated and mellow. It was so good, he couldn't help but nibble there. No, it wasn't a mating bite, but it drew a primal growl from his lips nevertheless. “May I take you, Dean?” He thrust against Dean's hip, lazily hopeful. 

Dean arched against him, nodding through the haze of pleasure. “Yes,” he managed. “Yes... God...”

Castiel grinned, kissing his throat once more before shimmying his hips and fighting with the tie on his pants. Soon he'd slipped them off, his cock popping up to bounce against his stomach. Dean looked at him, his hand reaching out almost reverently. “You can touch it,” Castiel said, his voice rough and amused. 

Dean closed over the hot length of him, squeezing gently and jacking him once. He moved a second time, more certain, when Castiel gave a pleased growl. He slid his fingers down a little lower, caressing the knot that was already swelling there. “Damn,” Dean groaned. “And you're gonna fuck me with this?”

Castiel thrust into Dean's grasp again, and then rocked up onto hands and knees, straddling Dean. “I want you,” he murmured. “Yes, _please_ , Cas, I want you.”

Cas arched up a little more and then leaned down to capture Dean's mouth in another deep kiss. Dean's hands wrapped up around Cas' shoulders, pulling him down. Cas took the opportunity to line himself up, balancing on one arm and using the other to guide himself into Dean's channel. He pushed slowly, until just the tip slid into the tight, moist heat. 

Dean keened again. “More,” he groaned desperately, arching up a little. “Damn it,” he mumbled against Cas' lips. “I want to... Oh fuck. I want to feel it.”

Slowly they began to rock together, Castiel taking his pace from Dean. He slid a hand between them, alternating between jerking Dean's cock and fondling his balls. His mouth wandered, too, from collar to nipples to throat to lips. “Dean,” he groaned, his pace increasing as his knot began to swell. “I want to bite you. I want to make you _mine_... Please, Dean...”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Dean gasped, clenching tightly as Cas' knot caught on his rim. “Do it... God... I want that, I want _you_...” His hands scrabbled for purchase on Cas' shoulders, neither of them noticing as Dean drew long scratches across his Alpha's back. 

Cas began to bite across Dean's chest, wherever he could reach, little love bites barely enough to raise a bruise. Dean groaned at the sharp pleasure-pain, and with every bite he clenched down against Cas' knot. Cas pushed in one final time, and when he tried to pull out, his knot had locked into Dean's body. Both men gasped, and Castiel rocked into Dean a few more times while Dean clenched rhythmically. With a growl, Cas bit down on Dean's shoulder, this time drawing blood from the meat of his arm.

Licking his lips, he pulled away, lapping at Dean's injury. Satisfied it was clean, he dropped his nose back to where Dean's scent was strongest. “I love you,” he whispered hoarsely against Dean's throat. “Mine... My Dean...”

Dean cried out at the initial bite, coming for a second time himself with the explosion of sensation the bite brought. As Cas gentled him through it, he sighed and let his hands roam up and down Cas' back. “Yeah,” he agreed, relishing the warm weight of his Alpha across his belly. “Yours. And you're mine.”

“Until the end of time.” Castiel agreed, finally gathering himself enough to rearrange them. Soon they were settled, both on their sides. Their legs entwined, Dean's head on his shoulder, Cas thought he hadn't been this comfortable in a very long time. “Sleep,” he murmured, kissing Dean's lips lazily. He couldn't keep his hands off him, though Dean didn't seem to mind. “My Dean. Sleep.”

“Mmm...” Dean responded, eyes already drooping closed. “Love you, too,” he mumbled. He felt Cas' smile against his forehead before he slipped into the dark.

_**August 10, 1893**_

_My dearest Dean,_

_I am so grateful to hear the news of you and your family. I do so wish I could meet Ben and Little Claire. Any grandmother wants to see her grandchildren grow and prosper, but I know you are doing a wonderful job giving them a good life._

_Things here proceed apace. Mrs. Tran has finished my latest dress. It is a wonder of lavender silk and embroidery. I know your father may find it a bit scandalous, for the neckline dips a bit lower than is perhaps proper. But Mrs. Tran insists that it is the latest fashion in London, so we are going to attempt to set the fashion at the Singer’s gala this Friday evening. His nephew is still seeking an Omega, and Robert is hosting an event to draw the best and brightest._

_Sam and Jess send their love. Jess is deep in the throes of planning their engagement party. She has made mention to me many times how she wishes she had your touch for pastry, as she wishes to make most of the treats for the party herself. Your hand in the kitchen will be missed sorely. Still, it will be a gala to remember._

_You know that I wish nothing but your happiness, my Dean, and know that I love you dearly. While I do miss your company at home, your letters lend a brightness to my day. Please do write again soon, and tell me more of Ben and Claire, and your home. And your Cas; I would hear more of my son’s husband. You have been unusually taciturn with me, my boy, and you know it is every mother’s desire to know the thoughts of her children._

_Enclosed is a handkerchief for you, Cas and the pups. I would have my grandchildren know the scent of their grandmother when I finally am able to meet them in person._

_Be safe and be well, dearest Dean._

_With much love,_

_Mama_


	7. In Which Dean and Cas Get an Unexpected Visit

**Chapter Seven: In Which Dean and Castiel Get an Unexpected Visit**

  


Castiel set aside his breakfast dishes and stood, carrying them over to the sink. He gathered Benjamin's, as well, and then stopped behind Dean to lean over and press a kiss to his lips.

"Wonderful breakfast," he said, squeezing Dean's shoulder. He brushed a kiss onto Claire's forehead while she ate, and then hugged Ben. "I will see you for supper."

"Yes, of course," Dean said, blushing a little. Since his Heat, Cas had been much more affectionate. Dean still wasn't used to casual kisses, or brushes of his arm, but he certainly didn't mind. "Be safe today," he cautioned, meeting Cas' gaze seriously when his Alpha nodded.

"Always, Dean. And I would say the same to you. Ring the bell if you need me, I will be repairing the fence on the north paddock all morning."

"Of course," Dean said, though he hadn't needed to ring the bell in the three months he'd been on the farm, except to bring Cas in for supper.

He watched as Cas shouldered his lunch sack and headed out the door, before turning his attention back to the babe in his arms. A feeling of satisfaction filled him; he finally had it all.

Claire started to fuss and he cooed at her. "Sorry, sweetheart," he said, tipping her up to rest on the rag on his shoulder. "Dee was daydreaming, and you need to burp..." He patted her back, waiting until she burped before sliding her down. "There you go, sweetie... Better?"

She giggled, letting Dean tickle her, squirming a little. Ben piped up from across the table. "Dee? We pick 'begavles today?"

Dean laughed, shaking his head. "Yes, Ben, we're going to pick the last of the vegetables today, and make stew for dinner. Sound good?"

"Yes!" Ben clapped his hands, and squirmed down from the table before darting down to his room.

"Careful, Ben," Dean cautioned. He didn't relish calming him down if he tripped. Dean carried Claire to the little pad where she played and set her down before following Ben to help him get dressed.

The morning passed quickly, after Dean washed the dishes and made up the beds. He and Ben did finish harvesting the last of the garden, and then Dean put the children down for their naps. He'd just finished tucking them in when he heard a rap on the door.

"Who on earth?" He stood up, wishing there was a window in the pups room. Who would be knocking this time of day? Gabriel didn't typically bother, and Anna wasn't due for another day or so. The knock sounded again, impatient, and Dean's stomach rolled uncomfortably. He wasn't sure if he should answer, when suddenly the bell rang loudly. Dean jolted into action, crossing to the door and pulling it open.

His stomach sank even further at the familiar face that greeted him. "Father! Do you have any idea what that is for? It's not a doorbell!" he said, shock fading to annoyance. John looked about to open his mouth to speak, but Dean talked over him. "And what in blazes are you doing here?"

John Winchester recovered quickly and pushed his way through the door. "Dean! I've been looking for you for a _month_ , what the hell possessed you, boy?"

"Boy?" Dean asked incredulously. "I'm a _married man,_ , and you are barging into my house, demanding to know what's wrong with _me_?"

John blinked in surprise. Dean had always been such a quiet boy, deferential. Oh, he'd roughhouse and fight with Sammy, but always he would defer to John. He'd been such a good boy.

"I come home, expecting to hear you started courting Alpha Singer's nephew, and instead you're _gone_! And your mother says you've run away to marry a stranger!" John's voice rose steadily, until Dean stepped forward.

"Would you be quiet? I just got the pups to sleep." He narrowed his eyes, and nodded to the table. "If you can be polite, you can come sit and wait for my husband. If you can't, you can get out."

Dean's head was spinning. _John, here?_ His quiet day was spiraling out of control. He led John to the table, listening as John's boots tapped across the floor. He busied himself setting the kettle on the fire, trying to bring his mind in control.

"Pups, Dean?" John's voice was tight with anger. "What the hell happened to you? Running away across the country to raise someone else's pups?"

Up until a few days ago, Dean had wondered the same thing, but damned if he'd tell John that. "I said polite," he said as he crossed to the window, spinning around and keeping himself between John and the hall to the pups. "What do you want?"

"You're coming home with me," John said, making as though to stand. He subsided at Dean's glare. "Your mother misses you, and Sam, too! How can you be so selfish?"

"Selfish? It's my life! I've wanted to live here as long as I can remember, and now I'm here. And I'm happy." Dean crossed his arms. "The hell I'm leaving." The kettle whistled and Dean stalked across to it, pulling it off the fire and grabbing two mugs. “This is my home.”

John did stand at that. “No, it's not! It's some kind of... misguided fantasy, and you are too old to be living it.” He advanced on Dean, despite Dean standing his ground. “Get your things. I did _not_ travel three weeks to get here to have you tell me no.”

Dean barked out a bitter laugh. “Well get used to it, Father, because I am _not_ leaving. And anyway, I am married and mated, there is nothing you can do.” He filled the teapot, keeping one ear on the hall. The last thing he wanted were his pups coming out to see John. “Look. You've found me. I'm alive, and well. Now go home. I don't need you here.”

Before Dean could pour the tea, the door opened with a slam. “Dean? What's wrong?”

Dean turned, taking a deep breath and forcing a smile to his lips. “Oh, Cas... Hello.” He stepped forward and purposely wrapped an arm around Cas' waist. “We have a visitor... My father.” He turned Cas, hoping that he wouldn't overreact.

Castiel frowned, confused. “Hello, Mister Winchester... I was not aware that you were coming to visit. It is very nice to meet you.” He held out a hand, then glanced at it and wiped his hand on his pants before offering it again.

“I wish I could say the same,” John said stiffly. “But I'm afraid I can't.” He pointedly ignored Cas' hand, and focused on Dean. “Dean, get your things. We're leaving.”

“Dean?” Cas' voice was confused, and the pain in it made Dean's heart break. He couldn't stand the idea that their fragile new relationship could be ruined by John's abrupt reentry into his life.

“No.” Dean hardened his voice. “I am not leaving my family.”

There was a small sound from the hallway, and Dean turned slightly. Ben padded out, trailing his blanket behind him. “Dee?” He sniffled a little, padding over and holding up his arms. Dean didn't hesitate, just scooped him up and held him tight.

“Hey, little man,” he said, bouncing him on his hip. “What's wrong? Couldn't sleep?”

Ben shook his head and nuzzled his nose against Dean's throat. “Too loud,” he mumbled with a pout. “Who here?”

Dean smiled gently, making little shushing sounds. “This is my father,” he said, though the look he gave John clearly said that the older man better not make waves. “He came to see us and our house. Isn't that nice?”

Ben nodded sleepily, already curling up against Dean's chest. “Mmhm,” he mumbled. “Dee, sing me a song?”

“Of course,” Dean said, keeping the smile on his face for the sake of his boy, but shooting a glare at John as he turned. “If you'll excuse me? I'll be back in just a few moments, when I have him back to sleep. Father, I'm certain Cas can fix you a cup of tea, if you'd like.”

He turned his back without a second glance, carrying Ben back to the bedroom, praying John and Cas could be civil for ten minutes without him there... Not that he and John had been all that successful up to that point.

By the time he returned, a few minutes later, John and Cas were staring at each other across the table, each with a mug of tea. They weren't speaking, but Dean took that to be a good sign. After all, not speaking meant they weren't shouting. "Right," he said, making himself known. Both men looked at him, and Dean restrained a sigh. He didn't want this to turn into a pissing contest between the two Alpha males in his life. "I think we need to talk."

Dean stalked across the room, the stomp of his boots telegraphing his displeasure with each step. He poured himself a cup of tea, and settled on a chair next to Cas. He very purposely put his hand on his husband's, meeting John's gaze evenly. "I understand that you are upset. But I am not going to relent on this. This is my home, and I am not going to leave."

John narrowed his eyes. "The hell you aren't. Dean, I don't know what you were thinking, but last I checked, you were still living in my house, and under my rules."

"Yes, well, things have changed." Dean took a purposeful sip of his tea, trying to rein his anger in.

"You don't get to make that decision, Dean."

Cas shook his head, cutting him off. "Mister Winchester, what makes you think you have the right to come and take Dean away from his mate and family? There are no laws precluding him choosing his own husband or home."

"His _mate_?" John snorted incredulously. "Dean, are you going to let this meathead talk to your father that way? Was a time you wouldn't have let anyone talk for you.” He peered narrowly at his son. “You wouldn't even allow me to speak for you when I was finding you a _respectable_ match. But you'll let this brute of an Alpha you're bedding do so?" He jabbed a finger toward Cas, frowning when he did not flinch away.

Castiel snorted. "Of course he can speak for himself! But it seems he has made his points and you are determined to ignore them." He squeezed Dean's fingers gently. "And he is not being 'bedded'." He glowered across the table at John. "He is my _mate_ and I would appreciate you minding your tone while you are in _our_ home."

John stood up roughly, his tea sloshing onto the table. "Dean is my _son!_ How can you possibly think that the fact that you _coerced_ him into leaving his _family_ and moving here means that you're his _mate_."

"We do not need to prove ourselves to you," Cas fired back, standing up. He didn't exactly tower over John, but it being his own territory didn't hurt. "You are in my den, attacking _my_ mate, and I will not stand for it!" He narrowed his eyes. "You have seen for yourself that Dean is healthy and safe, and I must ask you to leave now. I do not wish to wake my pups."

The older man sneered, turning his attention back to Dean. "Oh, I see how it is. You're letting him defend you, now... He's got you all wrapped up tight, doesn't he, Dean. It's a wonder he even lets you out of his bed, for all the space he's given you."

Dean sucked in a deep breath. "That is _enough_ ," he spat out. "I am done with you, father. I will not stand for this in my home. You heard my mate. Get out. I might have been willing to let you stay for dinner, but I will not allow my children to hear you speak such poison about their father."

He stood, shoulder to shoulder with Cas, both of them staring John down, no flexibility in their stance. John looked at them, considering another volley, but then his shoulders sagged. "You're really going to do this, Dean? You're really choosing a stranger over family?"

"This is my family, father," Dean said, a little sadness in his voice. "I would have liked to share them with you, but not if you are going to be like this. I have chosen them, and they are the _best_ thing that has ever happened to me."

“You’re being ridiculous, Dean,” John shot back. “You had everything! A good home, wealthy suitors, anything you wanted, but you choose _this_?” He waved his hand, encompassing the modest home that Dean had worked so hard to maintain the last few months.

“Yes, I do! I chose a husband who _respects_ me, and sees me for his equal. Your choices for suitors wanted little more than a trophy to show off at parties.” He narrowed his eyes, squeezing Cas’ hand so he did not allow his anger to get out of hand. “Even now, you treat me as a commodity to be traded, to be bought and sold as it suits your purposes! When would I have had the chance to make my _own_ choice, had I stayed in New York?” He snorted, shaking his head. “You appear, on my doorstep, and demand that I leave the home that I have chosen for myself, simply because it ill suits you to lose your hold over me. But I will do no such thing!” He lifted his free hand, motioning at the house himself. “This is my _home_ now, and if you cannot accept that, you are free to leave.”

John sighed. "I see." He shook his head, and straightened up. "Well. I..." He licked his lips, considering. "I think I'll head back into town. I've got a room at the inn. Perhaps... Perhaps we can have that dinner you mentioned, before I head back to New York. After I get my head around this."

Dean took a deep, shaking breath before he nodded. "I'd like that,” he agreed, tentatively. He _was_ homesick, a little, and even though John wouldn't have been his first choice, he wouldn't deny it was wonderful to see his a member of his family. "After our tempers have cooled. Perhaps tomorrow night."

"Of course," John agreed, nodding. He gave Cas an additional nod, an Alpha deferring to the territory of another, and headed for the door. "Tomorrow, then."

Dean followed him, holding the door and pushing it closed to sag against it when John was gone. "Well." He managed, flicking his eyes up to Cas. "That was unexpected."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean looked back and forth between the two shirts he'd laid out on the bed. One was a pale green, embroidered with a paisley design in a tone nearly identical to the shirt itself. It had taken him weeks to complete and he'd been really proud of it. He'd designed the pattern himself and thought it looked really good. He hadn't been able to bring himself to cut it up yet, since it was the last of his shirts from before.

The other shirt was one of the ones he'd acquired since he'd come to the farm. It was gray from the washings, cotton and utterly practical. He crossed his arms over his chest, cursing his father for making him feel so conflicted. He startled a little when Cas' arms wrapped around him from behind, his husband pressing a soft kiss to his throat.

"Trouble choosing, Dean?" He rubbed his hand up Dean's arm, over the mating bite he'd left on the meat of his shoulder. "I have never seen you wear the green one."

"I know," Dean admitted with a sigh. "It was a Sunday dinner shirt, at home. But I don't want Father to think that I'm trying to secretly tell him I want to go back to New York..." He shook his head. “At the same time, part of me wants to show him I have not forgotten where I came from, either."

Castiel smiled, kissing Dean's cheek. "You are so thoughtful, my mate," he said fondly. He relished that he could now touch Dean how he'd wished from the start. "I think the green would look most flattering on you; I am certain it would bring out your eyes." He chuckled. "But wear whichever will make you most comfortable. I know that I, for one, find you irresistible no matter what you wear."

Dean snorted and shoved at him playfully, though Cas' words still rang true for him. He shook his head. "You are my husband," he said, still thrilling inside at the moniker. "You are required to do so." Still, he reached for the green shirt and shimmied it over his head. "It's silly. This is just a dinner at the inn. Nothing fancy. Never mind that Gabriel and Kali will be there, or Anna and Zachariah..." He was only grateful that his mother in law had declined, apparently preferring her own household's cooking over meeting Dean's father. That was one awkward dinner he would rather put off as long as possible. Forever, perhaps.

“I understand. You wish to convince your father you have made the right decision. This is a situation for which you were not prepared.” He smiled as he peeled off his own shirt to pull on a clean one. Normally he wouldn’t bother, but given the company they were meeting, he didn’t want to go without cleaning up first.

The children, too, were scrubbed and dressed in their almost-nicest clothing. Claire looked quite fetching in her blue paisley jumper, and Dean smiled to see his embroidery on such a lovely girl. He held Claire in his lap as Cas hitched the horses to the cart. Ben sat sandwiched between them when Cas climbed up and cracked the reins.

“It will be fine, Dean,” Cas soothed, glancing over to Dean sitting stiffly. “Your father, I’m certain, will be on his best behavior. He seemed to be more settled after we spoke.”

“My father is…” Dean cut himself off, shaking his head. “Something else. He is a businessman through and through, and if he sees something advantageous to him, he will let it stand. I know he complained because I am his Omega child, but I also know I was a burden to him. It makes him happy to know I am married off, and he doesn’t have to worry about his spinster of a son.” He sighed, leaning back into the bench seat a little. “Ever since I was a child, he has desired to make every decision for me. He has held my life in an iron fist, and I longed to be free of that.”

Claire bounced a little in Dean’s lap, and he smiled down at her. “I promise we will always listen to you,” he cooed, bouncing a knee to make her giggle. “And Ben, as well.” He looked up at his husband. “I know you will never treat them as he treated me.”

Cas spared him a glance, sighing as he saw that Dean hadn’t relaxed in the least. “You were not a spinster, or a burden. From your letters I could tell that you were active in your household. I am certain that your mother loved having your assistance.” As much as he was loath to admit it, he could understand John Winchester’s position. If Ben or Claire ran across the country to marry a stranger, he would spare no expense to be certain they were safe. He smiled at Dean reassuringly. “And the fact that your father came all this way to find you tells me he loves you very much. So I would not worry over much, Dean. This dinner will be a good thing.”

Dean shook his head. “I hope you’re right.” He rocked Claire gently, smiling as the little girl clapped along with the rhythm of the horses. She loved riding in the cart. “Either way, he’s leaving in the morning, with the stage coach, and I’m staying here.”

Cas squeezed Dean’s knee, nodding. “Exactly. We only need to get through tonight.”

“Just through tonight,” Dean parroted. He kissed Claire’s hair, taking a deep breath of the little girl’s comforting scent. His nest, his mate, he had exactly what he’d wanted. He just had to get through tonight, one more night with Father, and then he was home free.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The inn wasn’t crowded this week, so the long table in the dining room was mostly family. Anna’s husband Zachariah sat at the head of the table, a spot next to him for Anna, with the children next to her chair. Gabriel and Kali, the young woman he was courting, sat on the other side. Dean froze when he recognized Michael and his mate, Ellen. He liked Ellen; the fiery Omega kept him on his toes when he went into town to the store. She was friendly, and their daughter, Jo, was an Alpha to be reckoned with.

He waved, and Jo darted up to take Claire from his arms. “Hello, sweet girl!” She cooed, nuzzling the little girl’s hair. She grinned up at Dean. “And hello to you, too,” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me your father was coming into town?” She slapped Dean’s shoulder, taking a little step back when Cas growled at her.

“It was a surprise for me, too,” Dean said with a little shrug. “Is Anna still in the kitchen? I’ll go see if I can lend a hand.” He escaped quickly, leaving Cas to entertain his family and Ben. Father hadn’t appeared yet, for which Dean was grateful. He needed a few minutes to gather himself before he saw his father, and Anna never let him wallow.

“Dean!” His sister-in-law grinned broadly as she turned with the pan of cornbread, tipping it out onto the counter and starting to slice it. “Talk about some gossip… Your father showed up here yesterday, just demanding to know where you lived… Gabriel didn’t want to tell him, but he looked so frantic, Michael thought something must be wrong back East.”

Dean wrinkled his nose. “Yes, I discovered.” He groaned, and turned to bring her the bowl for the cornbread. “It would have been nice to have a little bit of warning. He hasn’t been too uncouth here, has he?”

“What? No…” Anna stirred the stew. “He’s been a perfect gentleman. Very polite.” She looked up at the indelicate sound Dean made, and shook her head. “Really! He has been. Now make yourself useful; if you’re going to muddle up my kitchen, you can carry the bowls out to the table.”

Relieved to have a task to take his mind off of things, Dean obediently gathered the stack of bowls and carried them out to the dining room. Father was sitting at the table, speaking stiffly to Cas. Dean ducked back out to the kitchen as quickly as he could, feeling a little guilty but not quite ready to talk to his father yet.

“Can I help with anything else?” He knew Anna ran her kitchen quite smoothly, but Dean had made a place for himself there, and for once it felt good to work in someone else’s kitchen.

“You can get the milk out of the cellar and fill the pitcher. I’m about ready to take this out, then we can get started.”

Dean turned without a word to head to the cellar and retrieve the jug of milk. He filled the pitcher and carried it out to the kitchen. “Ready?”

“Yes, can you get the corn bread and butter?”

“Of course.” He gathered the dishes, carrying the butter and the milk in one hand and the bowl of cornbread in the other, following Anna into the dining room. Cheers greeted their arrival.

“Alright, alright,” Anna said with a laugh as she set the pot on the edge of the table. “All you vultures can just wait a moment while Dean and I get everything sorted.”

Dean quite happily followed her suit, passing filled bowls and starting the cornbread at the head of the table. When everyone was served, he sat between Cas and Ben, grateful for the buffer between himself and John.

“Let us pray,” Zachariah said, bowing his head. Everyone around the table followed suit. “Lord, we thank you for your gentle guiding hand as our harvest season comes to an end. We pray that your bounty will nurture our bodies and our hearts to your service. We thank you, too, for our visitors here tonight, and we pray for safe journeys as they leave our hearth for hearths far away. Guide and keep us all in your hands. Amen.”

“Amen,” everyone echoed, and then everything went quiet for a few minutes as spoons scraped into bowls.

“So, Mister Winchester,” Michael said after a moment, meeting John’s eyes across the table. “What do you do?”

John looked up, chewing thoughtfully for a moment. “I am a wholesaler. My warehouses are up and down the East coast.” He smiled. “I sell mostly imports, fabric. And yourself?”

“I am the proprietor of the store here in town. My father founded it before his death. My wife Ellen and my daughter Jo work with me.”

John hid a frown. It was strange to hear so many Omegas at work; Anna clearly ran not just the kitchen, but the entire inn, and now Ellen helped with the store. He knew that things were different here, but he hadn’t realized _how_ different. It was never a life he had wanted for his son. He looked over at Dean. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to convince the boy to come home.

A bright laugh startled him from his musings. Across the table, Dean was feeding the baby, while the little boy shoveled stew into his mouth. The little boy had managed to get food all over the bib his father had wrapped around his neck, but Dean didn’t look up at him, or scold him. What kind of man had Dean married that he didn’t even mind his Omega son practically wearing his food?

Winchesters had always bred toward Alphas; Dean was, and had always been, an enigma to him. Across the table, Dean was laughing at something his Alpha had said, and John couldn’t remember seeing him so happy. John shook his head and scooped up a bite of stew. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad place for Dean after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean settled into their bed, still fuming. “I cannot believe my father,” he huffed as Cas slid in beside him. “The absolute gall of the man, to appear on our doorstep and demand I return to his home as though I am an errant child!”

“Yes,” Cas agreed, reaching to squeeze Dean’s hand soothingly. “He certainly had appalling manners at times.” He chuckled. “At least he behaved himself at dinner. Can you imagine Anna’s face had he spoken poorly of you or me at her table?”

Dean laughed as he scooted across the bed to let Cas hold him close. “That would be a sight for which I would pay money.” Dean huffed as he made himself comfortable a settled onto the pillow. “Ah, well. Only one day more and we will be free of him.”

Castiel kissed Dean’s temple. “Exactly. We will say goodbye tomorrow before the bee, before he gets on the coach, and you will stay here with me.” He pulled Dean a little closer, possessive, and Dean smiled. It felt good to know, truly, that he was wanted.

“Home, sweet home,” Dean replied with a smile. “Good night, Cas.”

“Good night, Dean.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“He's gone?” Dean frowned in confusion. A part of him almost felt cheated. John was supposed to take home the image of his son and his family standing at the depot as his last sight of Heaven. Instead, he held only the heavy, creamy envelope Anna had handed him when they arrived.

“Yes; he was the only passenger on the coach this morning, so the driver asked if he'd rather get an earlier start.” Anna smiled apologetically. “I'm sorry that you didn't manage to say your goodbyes, Dean.”

“No. No... It's fine,” Dean said distractedly. “If I could just... Have a moment? I want to see what he considered so important to tell me that he could not say it to my face.”

“Of course, Dean.” Anna patted his hand warmly and then turned away. “I'll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

Dean barely heard her. He felt Cas press up against his back, a welcome weight, as he pulled open the envelope and began to read aloud.

_Dean,_

_I know you think that I have behaved badly, but know that I did so only in your best interest. You always were an impulsive child, and your mother and I spent more hours than you know worried for you. Always you were darting down the street, or climbing trees to see over the fence. Nothing becoming a proper Omega!_

_Your activities would have been less troubling, had you been an Alpha, but you weren't. I always thought my children would be Alphas; the Winchester line runs strong with them. And then there you were; strong, and fast, and smart as a whip. You were nothing like the Omegas I grew up with, and I had no idea what to do with you, so I did my best. It may have fallen short at times, but know I always acted with your good at heart._

_You understand why it was so jarring for me to come home and find that, instead of the safe, well off and respectable Alpha I expected, you had run off to marry a_ farmer _in_ Montana _of all places! As your father, it was my duty to be certain that you were safe and healthy. The letters your mother shared with me painted a pretty picture, but letters can be deceiving._

_Having seen your young man with my own eyes, I suppose he will do. I can tell that he cares for you and for the pups, and that he will do his best to provide for you. Please know that despite all that has happened, you will always have a place with us, if your young man does not work out._

_Take care, Dean._

_Your father,_

_John_

Dean snorted, shaking his head as he folded the letter again. “That bastard,” he said, a trace of fondness in his voice. “Always has to have the last word.”

“He certainly has... strong opinions,” Cas agreed, hugging Dean tightly. “But he has decided to leave well enough alone, and not attempt to tamper with your happiness here.” He kissed Dean's throat, glad that Anna had given them a moment alone, and then pulled back. “Come. Think no more on it. You'll feel better after the bee.” His Dean, for all that he loved his solitude, was a social creature Cas had come to recognize that, and he loved it. It brought such a warmth to their time together, to know that Dean _chose_ his company, when he could be spending it with others.

“You are right,” Dean agreed, leaning in for one more quick kiss before he tucked the letter into his breast pocket. “You have a good time with Gabriel, and I will see you for supper.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ellen, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” Dean pushed another tiny stitch through the quilt fabric. “Flour is better fresh, of course, but it’s really about how fine you mill it.” He shook his head at the older woman, patiently working her way across her own quilt section, sitting across the large frame from him.

“And how exactly do you suggest we mill it any finer, hmm?” She raised an eyebrow at him, then shook her head as well. “Not exactly easy to do.”

“I’m sure there must be a way,” Dean said, glancing up at her. “And it would make bread so much more palatable.”

“You simply must get past your big city conceits, Dean.” That was Garth, another of Castiel’s relations. He was married to Cas' sister Naomi, who lived in town and ran the saloon. Dean couldn’t get over the size of Castiel’s family, between siblings and their spouses, and cousins, well, it had taken Dean nearly three months to learn all their names. Now that the weather was getting colder, they’d taken more time to get to know one another, and Dean found he actually _liked_ most of them.

"I am over them!" Dean wrinkled his nose. "I'm just saying it's so much nicer to eat a bread baked from decent flour."

Garth laughed, shaking his head and deftly rethreading his needle. "So you say, Dean," he agreed mildly. "Cornbread is just fine for me, though. It isn't worth the extra to get wheat."

He turned his attention back to stitching while Ellen busied herself making a pot of tea. "Who wants honey?" She deftly redirected the conversation off the confrontational track it had been on.

Garth's hand shot straight up. "I would!" He rubbed his swollen belly with one hand. "This baby ought to be the sweetest girl in town, with how much I'm craving sugar."

Dean suppressed a surge of longing. He loved Claire and Ben with all his heart, but being around Garth, and seeing how his body had been changing, well, it set up a longing in Dean he didn't know how to hide. He'd thought he was past that need, that the babe in his arms every day would soothe the need for bearing his own. It hadn't. He cleared his throat, forcing a smile. "I'm sure she will be," he managed, before looking at Ellen. "I'll just take cream, please."

She carried the tray over, passing the cups out and regaining her spot in the circle. "Anna, how are the children?"

"Very well," Anna said, sipping her tea demurely. "Adam has been helping out in the stable without needing any prompting, and Elsie is quite good at delivering letters and linens." She turned her attention to Dean. "Speaking of, Dean… We received another letter for you yesterday, I believe it is in your brother's handwriting."

That was something else he wasn't used to, that the folks in town knew enough to tell when his brother had written him. "Oh? Well where is it?" He held out a hand, wagging his fingers eagerly.

Anna took her sweet time reaching into her bag, pulling out a carefully folded envelope. It was dirty, but most letters that made it to them were. He practically snatched it from her grasp, tearing it open too easily.

"Well? What does it say? Don't keep us in suspense, Dean!" Anna kept her tea in her hands, but leaned forward eagerly.

Dean flushed, but he knew that if he protested, they’d wheedle it out of him eventually anyway.

“Dear Dean,” he read out. “I have some news and I wanted to share it with you. I only wish you were here to tell in person. I have asked Jessica for her hand in marriage, and she has said yes.” Dean looked up, his eyes shining. “My little brother is getting married!” He grinned. “I can’t believe it!”

Anna clapped excitedly. “Oh that’s so wonderful, Dean! Does he say when?”

Dean skimmed down the letter, and shook his head. “Not before the spring, though he does not know when, precisely.” He set the letter aside, still beaming. “I have not been so happy in… A very long time,” he said with a decisive nod.

“That is wonderful news, Dean,” Garth said, setting aside his tea. “Blessings to your brother and his soon to be wife.” He shifted and lifted his needle again, placing a few more careful stitches. “This must be quite a change for you… I’m sure you must miss it. The servants, I mean… Nothing to do all day but your needlework. You have such a deft hand, you must have done quite a bit.”

Dean pulled a face. “No, thank you. I do not miss it. Occasionally, I miss my mother.” He grinned, “And a kitchen with fine, white flour. But hours of idleness and nothing but decorative needlework are greatly overrated.”

“Hmph,” Garth said, putting his needle down and standing. “I often feel that I could use a few months of nothing but decorative needlework.” He arched his back, stretching. “Pardon me; I’ve got to use the privy. I swear this little girl is waltzing in there.”

Dean watched him stand, and looked away with a flush when Garth noticed him watching. “Soon this’ll be you, Dean,” Garth said, hugging his swollen belly with one hand. “And then I’m sure that Castiel will make sure you have plenty of time for decorative stitchery.” He grinned, and turned to head out the back door to the outhouse.

Garth’s words were casual, but Dean had to swallow down a flash of hurt anyway. Despite the fact that the words hadn’t been intended to be, Dean felt the sting of the reminder of his own barrenness. It would never be him; he’d never bear a green eyed, dark haired child to grow up with Claire and Ben, a perfect mix of Cas and himself.

“Here, Dean.” Ellen’s voice startled him, as she appeared beside him with a tray. “Have some dried apples. They’re very good this year.” Ellen always had a knack of knowing when he needed to be distracted, and he took a slice of dried fruit. “Mm. Thanks, Ellen, these are perfect.”

He chewed thoughtfully, then wiped his hands on his pants before taking the needle again and starting his section of the quilt. Garth didn’t mean anything by it, he knew it. But that didn’t mean he wanted to think about the words any more than he needed to.


	8. In Which Dean Defends His Home and Cas is Aroused

**Chapter Eight: In Which Dean Defends His Home and Castiel is Aroused**

  


_**October 10, 1893** _

_Dearest Dean,_

_I hope that your first winter finds you well. It is cold here already, although, we are yet to have our first snows. I do hope that you will have enough to dress warmly for the winters there. Your letters relaying the brutality of the winter snows so far out west and in the mountains, I have to admit concern me very much. But you are an intelligent and resourceful man, so I know that I should not worry, and yet I do. It is the lot of all mothers._

_Enough about that. I have to tell you that your brother has been driving all of us spare with wedding planning. Even though it is not happening until the spring, he and Jessica have been making many plans._

_Her dress will be lovely; she has decided she wishes to wear blue, and she is going to be making it herself. She has expressed several times that she wishes you were here to assist in the decoration. I know that your needle would be able to produce a grand design that would be like no other, You will be missed, dearest._

_But I am so glad to hear the happiness that comes through in your letters. Thank you so much for the stories of the children. I hope one day that I will have the good fortune to meet them. Your father sends his greetings. I know that it must have been difficult for you, indeed, your brother has told me how much Father’s visit upset you. But, I feel that I should tell you that, while he is still angered that you ran off, as he puts it, that he had some good words to say about your Castiel._

_He tells me that you have quite a large family there, even more than you’ve related to me yourself. Father also tells me that you seem well received and respected. That the members of Castiel’s family treat you as one of their own. I will admit that he found it quite unusual to learn of so many Omegas working in tandem with their mates! I knew that Casitel’s sister, Anna, ran the inn of which you’ve spoken, but I was further informed in the most scandalous of tones that another Omega, Ellen, I think runs the local mercantile and yet another, Garth works in some other capacity which at present escapes me. Needless to say, your father found this quite difficult to grasp. I know, now, and I wished I’d understood better, that this is what you wanted for yourself. To be truly useful and a true participant with your mate._

_I knew you would make a good choice, Dean, and I am so happy for you. I do share your letters with Father and I know that over time he will see that you are happy and will come to terms with your choice. You know how he is, Dean, and you know, surely, that he will come around even more than he has already._

_I miss you very much, but I wish you and Castiel the very best. Please stay warm and well. Write again soon, I simply must hear more about my grandpups!_

_With all my love and affection,_

_Mama_

The middle of November was no time to be fixing fences; Dean firmly believed that winter should be spent _indoors_ and _warm_. But a farmer’s work was never done, and Castiel was out working in the south paddock with Gabriel. It was a shame the boys he'd hired from town never showed up; it would make for a longer day for the two men. Dean stood at the stove, stirring the pot of soup. It was Cas’ favorite, and Dean hoped that the warm meal would soothe him after a whole day out on the pasture.

Ben ran up to Dean, wrapping his arms around Dean’s legs. “Dee!” He giggled, squealing when Dean bent to scoop him up, spinning him around. 

“Hello, little man,” he said, chuckling. “Awake from your nap already?” He tickled the little boy, making him giggle again. “I hope you didn’t wake up your sister. She needs her rest.” He nuzzled his cheek and then tickled him again, setting him down. “Are you hungry? You want a snack?”

“Yes! Hungry, Dee… Wanna eat somefin tasy!” He wiggled in Dean’s grip, until Dean set him down, then he ran to the table and climbed up into his seat. He heard laughing, carried faintly by the blowing wind. 

"Oh, hear that, Ben? Sounds like papa's helpers came after all." Dean went to the jar of applesauce he’d brought up to go with their dinner; he figured a little extra wouldn’t hurt. Pouring some into a bowl, he frowned at the sound of the door latch rattling. The boys always knocked, if they came without Cas. 

“Ben… Stay there.” Setting the applesauce on the table, he moved toward the door as quietly as he could. The door latch rattled again, and then suddenly it burst open. The pungent scent of alpha and unwashed bodies was carried on the breeze to fill the kitchen. Two Alphas, a man and a woman, shoved through the doorway. “Woah!” Dean stepped in front of Ben, his eyes wide, nostrils flaring as it took in the unfamiliar scent of intruders in his den.

“What do you want?” Dean’s heart pounded wildly in his chest. Alphas! In his den! He hadn’t believed in all that denning nonsense, but right now all he could think was ‘protect the cubs!’ He puffed out his chest, making himself as big as possible. At over six feet tall, and after a summer of working at Cas’ side, he was not a small man. Still, he did not carry the bulk of either alpha standing before him.

The alphas were easily as big as Dean, the man even a little bigger. They were dirty, smelling heavily of musk and mud. The snow falling outside had done little to mute their stench, and Dean shuddered with revulsion. He couldn’t stand their smell in _his_ den. It should only smell like Cas! 

The man blew muddy brown spittle onto Dean’s clean floor, “Well, lookee here, Mae. We got us a nice prize!”

“Oh, a pretty Omega!” The woman knocked the man in the shoulder. “We lucked out.” She grinned and advanced on Dean as she smeared her husband’ spittle into the floor, knocking slushy snow off the hem of her dress. She rolled a wad of tobacco in her cheek and sent a tarry wad onto the floor as well.. “We’re just looking for somewhere warm to stay the night. Something good to eat… And I guess it looks like we found something else, too.”

“Like hell,” Dean snarled, clenching his hands into fists at his sides. “Get out of my house!” Claire’s cry, high and scared, carried through the thin walls, and Dean snarled again when the woman made as though to step toward the hallway. “Get away from my pups!” 

Ben’s cries joined Claire’s, and the female Alpha looked up sharply. "What do we have here?" She changed course, darting toward Ben and grabbing his arm. Ben squealed in terror as she dragged him into her arms. "Pretty little thing, aren't you?"

Ben sobbed, and Dean howled at her. He shoved the man in front of him hard, sending him stumbling back into the wall momentarily stunned. Dean groped for a weapon, fingers closing over his broom handle. "Let him go!" He swung the broom at her back, and she dropped Ben. Luckily, she'd been hunched to avoid his strike, so the little boy hit his knees and was able to scramble away across the newly slippery floor.

"Ben! The bell! Ring the bell, Ben!" Dean swung the broom again, and then spun to jab it at the man, who was charging him again. A moment later, distantly, Dean heard the clang of the bell. “Good boy, Ben,” he shouted. “Go to Claire, okay? Hold your sister. ” His eyes never left the marauders who had dared to breech his home. He jabbed the broom again, clearing a path for the little boy to run. "We'll be fine, Ben." The sound of Ben’s footsteps retreating to their room was music to Dean's ears as he kept his eyes on the Alphas, stationing himself firmly between his pups door and the interlopers.

“You need to get out. Now. This is _my_ den, and those are _my_ pups.”

They paused; most Omegas would cower if faced with two strange Alphas. The woman recovered first. “You should show some respect.” She stepped forward, pausing when Dean snarled and swung the broom again. This time she grabbed it, and managed to yank it from his grip. Dean stumbled, tripping into the fireplace. He grabbed the poker, coming up swinging. The heavy rod overbalanced him, though, and he let it fly rather than risk stumbling.

The man screamed as it slammed into his knee, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. “You little bitch! Pretty Omega like you, out here all alone? _Anything_ could happen.”

“Get. Out.” Dean didn’t care that he was repeating himself. The woman took another step closer, and Dean swung a fist. He connected with her face with a meaty thump. He _could not_ let anything happen to his pups!

The man reacted to her grunt of pain, darting forward. “Hey! You keep your hands to yourself, whore!” Dean caught him a glancing blow, turning so they were away from the hall. The only things that mattered were Claire and Ben. Dean swung again.

The first blow to his abdomen caught him by surprise, and took Dean’s breath away with a solid ‘fwump’. Dean recovered with a wheeze, stumbling upright. His eyes narrowed further. No way in _hell_ were these lowlifes getting past him.

Things went hazy for a little while, Dean absorbed in trading blows, trying to avoid as many as he could. The man had fallen, Dean didn't know how long ago, but the woman just kept coming. When the man fell over the stool Dean kept by the fire, he gained another weapon. The stool’s legs were a meager shield; she was fast, and brutal. Dean had several scratches on his arm from her nails, and a shiner swelling around his left eye, but he’d left several marks on her as well.

“Get away!” Dean groaned as she darted inside his guard and the fireplace poker slammed into his side. When had she picked that up? He grabbed for it; she couldn’t have that kind of weapon! Dean yanked on it hard, pulling it from her hands as suddenly, the door banged open for the second time, and a familiar musk wafted through the air. Cas!

Dean snarled, shoving hard at the Alpha as Cas’ roar filled the small room. “What the hell are you doing in my house?” He charged forward, every inch of him radiating anger and danger. 

She straightened up, a lip bloody and one eye swelling shut. Dean grinned maniacally to see he’d managed to land some solid blows. “I… We didn’t know he was claimed! There’s no bite, so we just…”

“I don’t _care!_ ” Dean had never seen Cas as angry as this. He swung a fist, hitting her face and knocking her to the floor. She scrambled to her feet, only for Cas to shove her back. She tripped on her partner lying by the fireplace. "Gabriel! I need you to get them out of my house!" He turned his attention to her again. "If you _ever_ come near my mate or pups again, I will tear you limb from limb, do you understand?”

The Alpha nodded, metaphorical tail between her legs as she inched around Cas’ feet toward the door. Gabriel stood there, grinning terrifyingly. "I'll take them into town... I'm sure the sheriff will be most interested in miscreants willing to break into houses in the dead of winter." He stretched a length of rope between his hands; Dean had never been so grateful for his brother-in-law's forward thinking.

Dean was trembling, but turned quickly toward the hallway as Claire wailed louder. Cas was here, he could handle the intruders, Dean had to care for his pups! He could hear grunts and groans as Gabriel and Cas bound the rogues and bundled them into the cart out front.

In the pups room Dean knelt and pulled them into his arms. "Shhh... It's fine, we're fine..." Ben clung to him, shivering, and Claire waved her little hands. Dean soothed himself, nuzzling and breathing in their sweet scents. 

The sound of footsteps had Dean looking up, snarling, but Cas held up his hands. "Easy, Dean, easy... Only me. Gabriel has taken them away. It's only us." Listening carefully, Dean could hear hooves growing more muffled as the cart rolled toward town.

He came closer even more slowly, waiting until Dean nodded to come and kneel beside them. "You did so well, Dean," he praised, wrapping his arms around their huddle. "So well, taking care of our pups..."

He pushed down his concern over the blood he could smell. Dean wouldn't take easily to him trying to take care of him until the pups were settled. Dean nodded slowly at the praise, his hands rhythmically stroking the pup’s backs.

Eventually, the children cried themselves to sleep, and Dean lay them down on the pallet. He was shaking, minute trembling through all his limbs, and Cas sighed softly. “Dean, will you allow me to take care of you, now?”

He gently touched one of the scratches, already scabbed over but still red and sore. Dean finally nodded. “In here,” he said, voice hoarse from all the shouting he’d done earlier. “I won’t… I _can’t_ leave them right now.”

“Of course.” Castiel pressed a quick kiss to his husband’s temple and then stood. “I will return quickly,” he promised, his hand lingering on Dean’s shoulder as he pulled away and went into the kitchen for supplies. He took a moment to gather himself, breathing in deeply to settle himself. Dean was alright, and thanks to him, so were their pups. He hadn’t been too late, but he’d had to do surprisingly little. From the scene that greeted him, it seemed that Dean would have had both Alphas on the floor, given a few more moments. His mate’s ferocity was breathtaking. And, if he were honest with himself, the most arousing thing he’d ever seen. But there were more pressing concerns. _Focus!_ He told himself sternly.

He took another deep breath, and then went out the front door to gather a bowlful of snow. Dean would need it for his shiner. Inside, he was grateful that Dean perpetually kept a kettle for tea on the hearth, and it miraculously hadn’t been overturned in the fight, so there would be warm water. A second bowl held the warm water. he laid a few cloths over his arm to clean the cuts. He firmly told himself to settle down as he gathered his supplies into his arms. Dean needed him.

In the bedroom, Dean sat beside the pups, stroking their hair gently. “Dean,” he urged, kneeling beside him. “Please remove your shirt. I need to wash your injuries.” He tamped down his possessive anger at the angry marks, knowing Dean needed him to be steady and stable. 

It took a moment for Dean to respond, but he eventually did, tugging his shirt off with slow, purposeful movements. The shirt was stained with blood, but Cas could also see tobacco stains, dirt, spit. It made him sick, and as soon as it was off Dean’s shoulders, he threw it as far away as he could. 

“There now… That’s better.” He stroked a soothing hand up and down Dean’s shoulder for a moment. When Dean’s trembling had ceased, Cas dipped a cloth in warm water. “Your face, first,” he said, kneeling up so he could clean the blood and dirt from Dean’s skin. Gradually the bowl grew murky as Cas tenderly washed each scratch and cut. 

"You were so brave today," he praised as he worked, pausing for a moment to fill a cloth with the now slushy snow. "Here, put this on your eye." 

Dean took the bundle and nodded. "Thanks," he mumbled, eyes downcast. He swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, Cas. I didn't think anything about them. I should have."

"What do you mean?" Cas paused where he was washing Dean's chest. The blood, thankfully, looked worse than it was, but there was a long scratch across his pectoral muscle that made Castiel wince. "Dean, you couldn't have known. This isn't your fault."

"I should have known better," Dean persisted. "I should have rung the bell right away."

Cas shook his head. "Dean, I do not want you to live in fear. You did exactly as I would have. You protected our pups, and our home. Yourself. What more could I ask of you?"

Dean fell silent for a moment, and Cas let him be as he patiently washed away the rest of the blood. His fingers lingered softly on the huge bruise blooming on Dean's abdomen. A few inches higher and it surely would have broken ribs. Cas said a quick prayer of thanks for small mercies as he set aside the bowl of water that was now rust colored. 

"You were so brave, Dean," he repeated. "You stood your ground and held your own." He shook his head. "You have _nothing_ for which to be sorry." He reached to gently tip Dean's face up. The snow-filled cloth dripped cold water down his cheek, and Cas took a dry cloth and patted it off. "I am so glad you are my husband."

He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Dean's uninjured cheek. "It is early yet, but I think perhaps dinner and bed are the best idea. Yes?"

Dean shivered a little. "That sounds fine." He looked over at the pups. "But... I cannot leave them yet."

Cas smiled and rubbed Dean's arm. "That is fine... Actually..." He stood, thoughtful, and gathered Ben into his arm. The sleeping child whimpered and burrowed closer. "Can you carry Claire?" He asked, mindful of his husband's injuries. "And come to our bed. I find... I would like very much to have you smell of us again."

A small smile touched Dean's lips, though it fell away as that cracked his lip open again. "I would like nothing more." He dropped the cold pack with a plop into the bowl of snow, and gathered Claire into his embrace. "Lead the way."

Soon Dean was ensconced in the bed. Both pups were tucked close to his side, and Dean himself wore one of Cas' nightshirts, his soiled pants discarded to be washed later.

"I will be back with food... The soup smells amazing." Cas smiled, and padded away again. His alpha instincts purred inside; his pack was safe, scent marked and warm. That was all he cared about. His stomach growled and he smiled ruefully to himself. _And, perhaps, Dean's marvelous split pea soup._

As the soup warmed he gathered up the ruined stool and broom before making a quick trip to the lean-to at the side of the house for some scrap lumber. He made quick repairs to the broken door that would hold until he and Gabriel could saw new boards for a proper repair. At least his home would be safe and secure again.

After they finished dinner, Cas carefully stacked the bowls and carried them into the kitchen. Dean was curled protectively around the pups when Cas returned. He’d drifted off fairly quickly after he ate, the adrenaline of the day wearing him out. The Alpha smiled fondly, breathing a small sigh of relief. They were all safe. He changed quickly into a clean nightshirt and slid into bed beside the pups, bracketing them between himself and his mate. He reached across, taking Dean’s hand into his own and squeezing gently. “I love you, Dean,” he murmured softly, not wanting to wake the pups.

Dean made a little noise and nuzzled the top of Claire’s head. Cas chuckled and snuggled down under the blankets. The air was quite chilly, or perhaps it was just how hot he was feeling? He shivered and wrapped himself closer to his family, closing his eyes. Whatever he was feeling could wait for the morning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gabriel pulled up in front of the sheriff’s station, the Alphas still tightly trussed in the bed of his cart. He knocked on the door three times, his eyes on the struggling, growling Alphas. “Hey, Rufus!” He knocked again, and the door opened.

“What do you want, Gabriel?” The older black man pulled his sweater closer to his shoulders and motioned at the snow, falling more thickly as the sun started to set. “It’s _cold_ out here, boy.”

“Yeah, sorry to disturb you, Sheriff, but this is something you probably want to see for yourself.” He nodded over to the cart, where snow was starting to pile up on the Alphas. Gabriel couldn’t really find it in himself to mind. “There was some commotion out at Cas’ place. These miscreants broke into Cas’ house. Dean held ‘em off, but they busted up a door and tried to get their pups.” His voice dropped to a low growl by the end of that; he didn’t take threats to his family lightly.

By the time he’d finished explaining the situation, Rufus was already off the steps and down to the cart. “A break in?” He turned to Gabriel. “Dean okay? And the pups?”

“I think so. At least, Dean was up and walking.” He shook his head. “But I told Cas I’d bring these two into town, get ‘em locked up so they can rest easy.”

“Sure thing.” Rufus’ eyes were narrowed. He was notoriously protective of his town. The grizzled Alpha pretty much treated the whole place as his pack. Young Omegas, like Dean, were especially under his protection. He let out a low whistle at the state of the two on the cart. “You an’ Cas did a real number on these two, Gabe.”

“Nosir!” Gabriel said, grinning broadly at the memory. “That was all Dean.” 

“Dean? You jestin’ me, boy?” Rufus asked, proud but a little sceptical.

“I don’t,” Gabe chuckled. “You should’ve seen the man! Why, if Cas and I had been a few minutes slower, I’m certain he’d have trussed them up to wait for us!” He shook his head warmly. “Remind me not to get on my brother-in-law’s bad side! He has a hell of a right hook!”

The male Alpha spat on the ground at their feet, not quite brave enough to spit directly on the Sheriff. “Damn uppity Omegas!” He snarled. “Shoulda let us teach him his place. That’ll be trouble for you later… Mark me words.”

“That’s enough out of you!” Rufus grabbed the man’s arm roughly. “I'll get this fellow, and you get the other one. I've got a cell with their names on it."

He was none too gentle as he yanked the man up off the bed of the cart. On his feet, the man stumbled briefly before catching his balance. Rufus wasted no time before pushing him toward the station. Gabriel grabbed the woman a moment later, following suit.

"You can let our boys know I've got this sorted," Rufus said as he marched the Alpha into the cell at the back of the station. Gabriel pushed the woman in, and Rufus closed the door. When it was closed, Rufus rapped on the bars once. "Turn around and I'll get you two untied." He narrowed his eyes. "And while I'd love to leave you hungry, common decency and the law say I gotta give you something to eat."

Gabriel sneered at them, and slapped Rufus on the shoulder. "Well, Sheriff, I think I'll leave them to your capable hands. I'm gonna head home and get something hot to eat myself. I'll swing up to Cas' tomorrow and let him know we've got things squared away."

"Sounds good. Here, take your rope back, might as well." He tossed Gabriel the loop, and he caught it deftly before heading out the door.

"Night, Sheriff," Gabriel called, just before the door slammed shut.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Castiel woke aching. His skin crawled with heat and he nervously bit his lip. Sick? He supposed that must be the case. He took a deep breath. The pups were near and he relaxed a little. No time to mate with pups nestled to his side. He frowned. Where had _that_ thought come from? It was unsettling.

He took another breath, to soothe his mind, and pulled in the scent of his husband. Dean was here, as well. _Mate_ , his Alpha instincts grumbled. The fever didn't cool, and Cas rolled from the bed, pacing irritably. The pups were here, but why? His pack should be here… Shouldn’t they? He'd never felt this way and the confusing feelings were making him irritable. He paced to the wall and back, down and back. Mate-scent flooded his nose still, hot and needy. It still had a tinge of stale fear, sharp and bitter. He snorted, clearing his nose. Under the fear was determination, and anger. That was better. More arousing.

He spun, pacing again. He _must_ be getting ill, there was no other explanation for why he was so unsettled. “Cas?” His mate’s sleepy voice caught his attention.

“Yes, Dean, are you alright?” He knew there was a hint of tension in his tone, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull it back. Dean was his, and his skin itched with the need to touch and be touched. He was burning up.

“Yes, I am… Are you?” His Omega sat up slowly, gently laying Claire next to Ben on the bed. Dean slid out of the bed, approaching his husband warily, and Cas shook his head.

“No… I… I am afraid I am ill.” Cas swallowed hard. “I feel feverish and restless.” He kept his eyes on Dean; just speaking to his mate settled something inside him, soothed the itch minutely.

Dean’s skin was flushed as well, his skin glistening faintly and his pupils blown wide. “I… My Heat isn’t due yet,” he murmured. “But… I feel it too. Hot. Tingly... You smell different.” He swallowed, but before he could speak again and answer the puzzled look on Cas’ face, there was a rap at the door.

Cas whirled and stalked out of the room. “Stay here!” He growled, his heart pounding twice as quickly as it had been. He moved to the main room and pushed aside the curtain from the window. His brother stood in the snow, white flakes dusting the brim of his hat. Cas narrowed his eyes, but tentatively went to the door.

“What do you want?” He kept the snarl from his voice, but it was a herculean effort. Gabriel’s nostrils flared as he caught a whiff of Cas’ sick scent; Cas knew that if he smelled anywhere close to what he felt, he’d never smelled as bad as this.

“Oh boy…” Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Hello, Cas…” He held up his hands, non-threatening. “I just wanted to come and tell you that the danger has passed. The sheriff has the intruders in custody and they’ll be leaving town with the next stagecoach.”

He watched Cas try to parse that information, but before he could, Dean appeared. “Dean, what are you doing?” Cas stepped protectively in front of Dean, blocking him from Gabriel’s view, but his mate squeezed his shoulder.

“He’s pack, Cas…” Dean nuzzled in close, taking a deep whiff of Cas’ scent. “You smell so good…” His mouth was watering, and he could feel preHeat taking him over. “Cas, you promised me you wouldn’t leave me again for Heat...” He swallowed hard. “My Heat is here… Let pack take the cubs. They will be safe with pack.”

Gabriel nodded. He could smell the Rut scent rising from his brother, and the Heat scent equally as strong from Dean. Things were coming on fast, but at least Dean was still aware enough of himself to get the pups safe.

Castiel stepped back a little, letting Gabriel in the door. “Wait here,” he said. Where Dean had touched him burned, like fire, hot and perfect. “We’ll bring them.” He went back to the bedroom, and scooped Ben up. The little boy whimpered; it was still early. “Shh… You’re okay.” The scent of his pup soothed him, made it easier. He wrapped Ben in a blanket, hugging him close. Dean gathered Claire up, and between the two of them, they carried the pups back to the living room.

Gabriel stood carefully in the same place he had been when they left the room. With his brother in Rut, he didn’t want to pose any sort of a threat. It was much more important to get the pups out and give the grownups time to do what nature intended.

“Oh, good…” He smiled disarmingly. “Here, Dean… Let me take Claire.” He took the baby tenderly, holding her close. “Cas you can bring Ben out and we’ll get them settled, okay? I have plenty of hay in the back, they can bed down nice and cozy.”

Castiel hesitated for a moment, but a small whimper from Dean finally decided him, so he nodded and followed Gabriel out to the cart. When he was convinced the babies were safe, wrapped up warm and together in the hay, he fixed his brother with a hard stare. “Keep them safe.”

“I promise,” Gabriel said earnestly. He climbed up in the cart, smiling at Cas. “I’ll come back in three days. And..." He grinned teasingly. “Enjoy yourself.”

Cas blinked at him bemusedly. Enjoy being ill? That was hardly enjoyable. But perhaps Gabriel meant Dean’s Heat? Dean. He swallowed hard, spinning around, Gabriel forgotten. Dean needed him, if he were having his Heat.

In the house, Dean waited impatiently. He moved stiffly, his bruises tightening up his body after a long, still night. Castiel ached to soothe him, even as his own skin crawled and the heat grew in his gut. “Dean.” Cas shut the door, latching it to keep his mate safe. No one was getting in here again.

Dean startled, looking up as Cas stepped close. “Cas,” he said, his voice almost a moan. He stepped close to his lover, tipping his head submissively. “Cas… I need you. Please?” This time there were no pups, no reason his mate couldn’t touch him, cool the fire burning in him.

It was early in his Heat and Dean was grateful for still being mostly coherent. He stepped into his husband’s arms, keening as Cas nuzzled at his exposed throat. He nipped gently, his hands still cautious of Dean’s injuries. “You have me, Dean,” he promised. “I… Fear I am becoming ill, but whatever comfort I can provide to you is yours.”

The words brought Dean up short, and he frowned, breathing deeply. Ill? Castiel smelled good; better, even, than he had at his last Heat. “Cas…” Dean mouthed at his husband’s throat, hands starting to wander toward the hem of his sleep shirt. “Y’r in Rut.” He sucked a small bruise at the join of Cas’ jaw and neck. “Remember? Yest’rday?”

Cas frowned, though his hands ran up and down Dean’s back restlessly. It was hard to think past the heat rising in his gut and the sizzling pleasure where Dean nipped his throat. “Rut? But… We are married? I have never had a Rut before.” He blinked, gasping when Dean sucked another little claiming bruise on his throat. It was right that Dean mark him; he was Mate, and everyone should know.

Dean huffed a laugh as he tugged Cas toward the bedroom. “Yes, we are, _husband_ ,” he said, shaking his head. “And yesterday you fought off two attackers for the right to retain my hand.” He leaned up for a kiss, moaning as Cas kissed him back enthusiastically. They finally broke apart, both panting. “And now…” He thrust against his husband’s hip, cock hard and leaking. The scent of his slick filled the small room. “Now we reap the reward.”  
“Yes…” Cas gasped. He mouthed at Dean’s throat. “Yesterday, Dean… I have never been so aroused.” He nuzzled and nipped beneath Dean’s ear, the taste of his husband’s skin exploding on his tongue. “You were so fierce yesterday… The fire in you as you defended our home and our pups…” He claimed Dean’s mouth in another hungry kiss, and when they broke apart, Dean chuckled breathily.

“See? Rut,” he groaned, thrusting against him again. He tugged Cas into their room again, toward the bed. "I need you, Cas... So much. Please. I'll explain it all later."

The sound of Dean's begging turned something inside Cas to demanding and hungry. Giving in, he stepped into Dean's space and grabbed for the hem of his nightshirt. "Mmm... Look at you... So slick and wanting..." He claimed Dean's mouth in a hungry kiss.

"Yes, damn it, Cas." Dean clutched at Cas' nightshirt and pulled at the hem. "Touch me, do it, touch me..." Heat had never felt like this before. The smell of an Alpha, the thick arousal in the air. Usually he felt needy, empty, but now he was _hungry_ , and when he finally pulled Cas' nightshirt off, he let out a pleading keen.

"Shh, my lovely strong Omega," Cas soothed, kissing the corner of Dean's mouth. He walked them backward to the bed, cock hard and leaving slick trails on their bellies. "I'm here... You're mine." He pushed Dean down onto the mattress and pinned him there. He could feel the slick pooling near his knee; Dean was ready for him. It would be so easy, so perfect.

"Yes, Cas," Dean said wantonly. His normally independent and self sufficient Omega _needed_ him, and that was a rush of power he'd never felt before. Only _he_ could fill this need, and he'd subdued all the challengers.

He pushed Dean's legs apart with one knee. "I want to knot you." The savagery he felt surprised him, but Dean arched up, presenting as much as he could pinned beneath Cas.

"Yes, Cas, yes, I want that. I need you." The Heat was building in Dean's gut, and he didn't want to wait. He felt like he'd been waiting for his whole life, any longer and he might explode.

Cas leaned up, releasing Dean's shoulders. "Roll for me, Dean," he demanded, growling. The words came from instinct. He might be embarrassed later, but for now he just needed to see, to touch and taste. He gave Dean a little space, knowing it would be easier if they were front to back, for how long they would be tied.

Dean whimpered again and rolled onto his knees. His Heat had never hit this fast. He propped himself up, presenting with his legs spread and his back arched. “Cas, Cas, _please_.” For the first time, he didn’t have to try and reach back and touch himself. Cas was there, between his legs, stroking and teasing. It inflamed him at the same time as his desperation eased; his Alpha was here.

Cas scissored two blunt, perfect fingers, then three, then four. Dean lost count in the blaze of pleasure, eventually just letting his head drop and the sensation run over him. The stretch was _almost_ perfect. “Please,” he gasped out, finally, thrusting back on the invading hand. “Knot me, Cas, knot me, please, please…” He’d long ago stopped being ashamed for his needs in Heat; usually no one was around to hear him anyway.

This time, though, Cas _did_ hear, and he pulled his hand free. He was slick almost to the wrist. Dean keened at the loss, but then the sound of Cas slicking himself up, stroking his cock, and then hot, solid… Cas seemed to go on forever as he pushed in. Dean pushed back, eager, but Cas held him still.

“Easy, Dean,” he soothed. “Easy… I’ll take care of you…” He bit Dean again, sucking a bruise to his throat. _Mine_. Dean was so tight! So velvety smooth. Cas gripped Dean’s hips almost tight enough to bruise as he tried to moderate his pace, fighting the instinct to _take_ and _mark_ and _breed!_

A moment later, Dean squeezed down on him, hard, and his resolve broke. “ _Fuck me_ already!” Dean begged, pushing back against Cas’ restraining hands, and Cas gave in. He set a brutal rhythm, but Dean met him stroke for stroke, sobbing in his pleasure. “Yes, yes, damn it, right _there_ Cas, _yes!_ ” He screamed. His hands scrabbled for purchase on the bed, and Cas’ hands on his hips helped to maintain the balance.

Cas lost track of everything but Dean. Dean, hot and tight around him, tasting perfect and sweet and salty under his tongue. The sounds Dean made when he rolled his hips _just_ so. It was almost a surprise when his knot began to catch on Dean’s rim, making each stroke falter as it slowed his movements. Cas didn’t stop, didn’t still until _finally_ , he rolled his hips and they were locked. His hands clenched around Dean’s hips again, stuttering as he came. He howled out in victory to any would-be intruders, this was _his_ mate, and he’d bred him and kept him. This was his mate who fought for him and for them, for their pups and he was _his_!

Dean howled, too, clenching around Cas’ knot as he came, and eventually collapsed on the bed. Cas rolled them to their sides and began to kiss and nip sleepily at Dean’s throat. He kept his arms around him, their legs entwined. “My Dean,” he whispered, hoarsely. The orgasm had given them both a little clarity of thought, and he huffed out a happy breath. “Oh, my Dean… I love you so very much.”

Dean murmured sleepily. “You too, Cas, my Cas,” he mumbled agreeably. “Sleep, now…” He rested his head on Cas’ shoulder and breathed his husband’s scent in deep as he took his own advice.


	9. In Which Dean Decks the Halls with Pining and Ribbon

**Chapter Nine: In Which Dean Decks the Halls with Pining and Ribbon**

  


_**November 27, 1893** _

_Dear Mama,_

_Christmas is fast approaching. It is heartwarming to see so many of the townsfolk excited and decorating. Candles in every window, and Castiel tells me that we will be fresh cutting an evergreen for the house. Even the inn his sister, Anna, owns will be decorated and homey._

_We had some excitement here recently; nothing to be worried over. There were some rogue Alphas whose wagon train broke down on their way to Oregon. They caused some commotion in town and had to be arrested. Thankfully, after that things have returned to their usual quaint stillness._

_The pups are growing like weeds; Claire walks on her own now, and is starting to babble more purposefully; we even hear a few words, now and then. Ben is a little steam engine; he never sits still. The winter is going to be very hard; it’s too cold to go out much, so I will need to find ways to keep him entertained. It is well that Cas is good with his hands; already Ben has several small toys Cas has made._

_I wish I could see you all for Christmas, but I look so forward to making new traditions here._

_Give Sammy and Jess my best. I love you._

_Your son,_

_Dean_

Dean carefully tied another ribbon to the branches of the tree. No matter what he said to his mother, things were different here. It was beautiful, to be sure, but there was none of the opulence from home. No popcorn balls or any of mama’s beautiful candles, no pretty glass to fill the tables.

He was determined to do _something_ , though, so he had set about decorating the house the best he could. It was much too difficult to go into town regularly now, so he had just what he could find in his own supplies and what Amelia had left behind.

Ben squealed in pleasure when he heard the door open, and Dean chuckled. Cas was spending less time outside, now that the winter cold and early nights had set in in earnest. “Papa!” Ben sprinted across the floor and threw himself into Cas’ arms. Cas caught him up and spun him around.

“Hello, Ben,” he said, smiling and kissing the little boy’s forehead. “Have you been a good boy for Dee?”

Ben nodded wildly. “Dee showed me how to cut the ribbon, and we put berries on the string, and I helped Claire sit up and watch while Dee made lunch!”

“What a good boy!” Castiel praised. He chuckled and set the squirming boy down before he crossed to Dean, pulling his husband into his arms. “And you, Dean? How has your day been?” He pressed a kiss to Dean’s lips before pulling back a little. 

“It has been quite festive.” Dean forced a smile to his lips; it was always easier to be happy when Cas was around, and soon, it felt real. “Our Ben has been a very big help.” He left off how much he had been missing his family, especially his mother and Sam. Cas never missed when Dean was more subdued than usual, but Dean didn’t want to dwell on such things. 

Castiel squeezed Dean’s shoulder as he looked over the small tree that dominated the living space. “You have made some wonderful progress dressing the tree,” he said, starting to pull off his coat. Dean helped him out of it and then hung it on the rack by the door. 

“Thank you.” Dean smiled and headed back to the kitchen. “We were waiting for your help to hang the garlands of berries and popcorn.” He felt looser, now that Cas was home. The sadness faded when he was with his mate, and it was easier to look forward to new traditions with his family. “Ben, please pick up your toys,” he said as he started to stir the soup. “I want to light the candles on the tree after dinner and I don’t want to trip on any of your things.” 

The little boy didn’t complain, he simply picked up the toys he’d been playing with when Cas came in the door and began to put them in the small bag that Dean had made to keep them in. When he’d finished, he looked up for Dean, going to him earnestly.

“Dee, I help?” The hopeful question brought a smile to Dean’s face. 

Dean looked up from the pot at the boy’s voice. Three bean soup, with a good sturdy hambone, was warm and filling. Not exactly the Christmas Eve dinner he’d had in New York, but he thought Cas would appreciate it.

“Yes, of course, Ben. Here.” He handed the boy a stack of bowls and spoons that he’d set out earlier. “Can you set the table for me please?” Ben took the bowls clumsily, but carried them to the table and set them carefully at each spot. 

Dinner progressed as usual; quiet and easy. Dean was determined to enjoy the first holiday in his own home, even with missing the glitter and bright festivities blanketing New York’s society. He leaned back in his chair, letting Cas regale him with stories about growing up with Gabriel, what he had thought about moving to the West, hearing how he’d decided to leave town and run the ranch. It felt so good to relax and just spend time with his husband, and the ache in his heart was replaced with easy companionship and a warm hearth.

After dinner, Cas would not countenance Dean doing the clean up alone, not on Christmas Eve. Between the two of them they had everything cleaned up and finished just a few minutes later. Claire fussed from her seat, until Castiel freed her, cooing. “Hello sweet girl,” he said, smiling. “Are you going to watch us finish the tree?” He nuzzled her cheek, tickling her until she giggled.

Dean watched from the corner of his eye, smiling broadly as he brought down the bowls of garland they’d finished earlier. When Cas had settled Claire on the blanket pad by the fire, he turned to their son. “Ben, come help your papa and me hang the garland.” Dean called, carrying the bowls in front of the tree. He chuckled when the little boy’s pattering feet brought him to Dean’s side.

“Ready, Ben?” 

Ben clapped and giggled. “Yes! Wanna make the tree pretty!” Dean bent and scooped the boy into his arms. Cas went on one side of the tree, Dean and Ben on the other. Together, Ben and Dean passed the threads of berries and strings of popcorn round and round the tree.

When they finished, the green branches were festooned with bright red and white strings. Dean and Cas began to affix the candles, each in their little holders, onto the branches while Ben watched in awe. Cas lit the first candle and handed it to Ben, while Dean helped to steady the flame.

“Do you know,” Dean said as he looked at the little boy, his _son_ , in his arms, “what we used to do when I was growing up, and I helped my mama to light the candles on our tree?”

Ben shook his head, wide eyed.

“What did you do, Dean?” Cas asked softly, watching his mate and their boy.

“We sang carols. My mama has a lovely voice.”

“You sing, me, Dee?” Ben smiled broadly.

“I don’t know, Ben,” Dean smiled at his son, hefting him higher on his hip. He usually sang only at bedtime, when he and the pups were alone. “There are so many songs to sing for Christmas… How shall I pick one?” 

“Oh! Please! Dee has a pretty voice! Sing now, Dee?” Ben’s little voice was hopeful.

“Oh, yes, please Dee,” Cas echoed, a wicked grin on his lips when Dean shifted a little uncomfortably. “Sing for us. Anything you like.”

“Only if you join me,” Dean replied after a moment, a glint in his eye. It had only taken a few evenings of Cas attempting to sing the pups to sleep to learn his husband had a tin ear.

“Very well,” Cas agreed after a moment. “But only because it is Christmas.”

“Wonderful!” It would be much easier to sing if Cas were singing along, and Dean were not making a fool of himself alone. He stepped closer to the tree so Ben could resume lighting the candles. “When I was small, my favorite carol, that is a song that is sung at Christmas, was _The First Noel_.” He lifted his voice, and after a beat, Cas joined in. 

One by one they lit the candles on the tree, and Dean took the first one from Ben’s hand as he sang the final bars of the song. “Good job, sweet boy,” Dean said, kissing Ben’s forehead before he set him down. The warm glow from the tree filled the room with flickering warmth, supplemented by the fire. 

Ben looked on, his eyes wide. “Dee…” He clutched at Dean’s shirt, breathless. “Tree so _pretty!_ ” He turned to Dean, his face shining with excitement. 

“Yes, it certainly is.” Dean smiled, kneeling down and lifting Ben into his arms. “Come on, let’s get ready for bed, and maybe papa will read to us before we tuck you in.” The little boy gave a token protest, but allowed Dean to pull him into his arms and carry him to their bedroom. 

Castiel picked up Claire, still babbling and giggling, and took her to change her before bed. By the time Dean and Ben returned, Cas had settled by the fire, dandling the baby on his knee. Dean took Ben’s hand, bending to kiss Cas’ cheek when they joined him by the fire. Dean settled Claire on his lap and Ben snuggled against his side as Cas reached for his book.

Tonight, Cas read from the Bible. The story about the birth of Jesus was the obvious choice for the night. Cas smiled part way through as Ben widened his eyes and broke in. "A stable? Papa, that's cold!"

"Yes it is," Cas agreed with a chuckle. By the time he finished the story, Ben was nodding off and Claire was already asleep. Cas set the Bible aside and stood to pick up his son. "Come on then," he said fondly. "Father Christmas won't visit good little boys who are still awake."

Ben made a little sound of protest, but snuggled into his father's arms and let himself be carried. Dean stood as well, taking a sleeping Claire with him. When the children were all tucked in, the two men went back to the main room and Cas drew Dean to sit by the fire again.

Dean leaned into Cas’ warmth as he looked at the happy little tree. It was so different from home… From New York. Mama always had such a gorgeous tree, resplendent with ribbons and fresh white candles, the little silver holders shimmering in the light. It had always been a center point to the vibrant holiday season. This little tree? Quite different, and yet Dean felt a swell of pride when the flickering light illuminated their simple decorations. This, this was home. They had done this together, it was _theirs_. Even without Father’s eggnog, or the music from the piano in the parlor, it still felt perfect. 

"You are quiet this evening." Cas' rumbling voice broke through his mental wandering. "Is everything alright?"

"Hmm?" Dean looked up from where he had been resting against Cas. "Oh, I was just thinking how happy our little tree is." 

“It must be different from what you are accustomed to,” Cas lamented. “I remember in Philadelphia, how trees were so elaborate. The blown glass, yards of shimmering ribbon... “ He nodded to their little tree. “Ours is certainly different.”

Dean nodded; he was grateful that his husband could understand. “Yes, it is.” He smiled. “And yet, I think it is better, in some ways. It is not what I remember, but it _is_ more special. It is just _ours._ ”

The candlelight flickered again, warm and golden, and Dean sighed softly. “It’s true,” he said after a moment of thought. “I do miss New York. My family and my friends, mama’s cooking.” He chuckled, his heart swelling with happiness as he took in their little home. “But this? Is what I always dreamed of. My own home, with a mate, and pups. Our own tree, and our own Christmas dinner.” He looked up at his husband, smiling broadly. “I wouldn’t change our Christmas together for anything.”

“I had hoped perhaps to spend this Christmas with Anna and Gabriel, and the rest of the family,” Cas said as he pulled Dean into his arms again. 

“I know Ben would certainly enjoy spending the holiday with the other pups,” Dean agreed. “But it appears that this storm has other ideas. Still… I really don’t mind. I think I prefer this first Christmas being just us. Ours.” He smiled. “We can always spend Christmas with family next year.”

Castiel smiled, nodding. "I agree,” he said, leaning down for a kiss in the firelight. “I am so grateful for you here and now,” he said as they broke apart. “This is the best Christmas I could imagine." He hugged Dean close before standing and holding out a hand. "Come, I believe Father Christmas needs to make his appearance before we go to bed."

“You are right, of course.” Dean stood as well, hugging Cas close and kissing him softly before following him to the loft to retrieve the hidden presents for their pups. Christmas was a time for blessings, and he couldn’t wait to see the looks on the pup’s faces when they saw their gifts the next morning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘Father Christmas’ was generous, but certainly not overly so. Each child had a new outfit, and Ben had a few new toys. For Claire, the little wooden carvings were not much excitement yet, but they would be later. Dean had stitched for each of them a lovely set of napkins, finally putting Cas’ courting gift to use. “They should have a Hope Chest, Cas,” he said, thinking longingly of the ornate wooden chest at the foot of his bed in New York. Since he was young he had been putting things into the chest, preparing for the day he would one day be married. _So much for that,_ he thought wistfully.

 _Those bed linens wouldn’t last a day out here. Though I wish I could see Cas stretched out upon the pillow cases._ He carefully folded the napkins into a pleasing square. Ben and Claire would not appreciate them now, but one day, perhaps, they would. 

“So you’ve mentioned.” Cas smiled wistfully. “Amelia did not have one; her father passed away before she was born. He had made her sibling’s, but had no chance to make one for her.” His voice was soft, as it always was on the rare times he spoke of his late wife. “I would have liked to have it to pass on to the pups. But Gabriel has found me some perfect wood, golden and solid. I thought perhaps I could work on them in the evenings.”

“That sounds perfect, Cas,” Dean said, folding Claire’s new blanket and setting it under the tree. Cas lay out her rattler on top, and carefully stacked Ben’s new horses, and ball-in-cup toy nearby. Dean had hung the stockings earlier with Ben, and he stood and tucked a few peppermint candies in each. Ben also received a small doll Dean had made from one of his old shirts, the face made from an old handkerchief and stitched with some of Dean’s floss. Dean hadn’t missed how much he enjoyed toting his sister’s doll around, and thought the boy might like to have one of his own.

By the time they had finished their preparations, Dean felt much lighter. Yes, it was a smaller celebration than he recalled, but the joy filling the small house was almost palpable. “You know,” he said, turning to his husband. “Perhaps I will ask Mama to send my hope chest.” Cas’ skin glowed golden in the light of the candles; once again, the image of Cas spread out on his pillowcases brought a smile to his lips.

“Hmm?” Cas turned away from the fire to look at Dean. “That seems very… Sudden,” he said, a small perplexed smile on his face. “Why? That would be most dear to post all the way out here.”

“Well, I certainly do not need all of it; I suppose the chest could stay. But there are some… things, I might like.” He stepped closer to Cas, lifting a hand to stroke down his husband’s arm teasingly. “I remember a certain set of pillowcases I spent many hours on.” He smiled lasciviously. “Made of the finest cotton my father could acquire.”

Cas frowned, a little bit. “They would be most difficult to maintain here, Dean,” he said. “The bed linens we have now are more than serviceable.” 

“Mmm… But they are so comfortable,” Dean said, stepping more into Cas’ space. “And we could…” He blushed. “You know.”

At that, Castiel’s eyes widened, and he chuckled warmly, shaking his head. “You, my husband, are the greatest gift I could have received.” He stroked Dean’s cheek gently and leaned in for a kiss. “Come…I believe our perfectly serviceable bed linens will do for tonight.” He kissed Dean again, more deeply, and Dean moaned softly.

“No, you’re probably right.” Dean breathed, leaning into Cas’ hold for a moment. The two men paused to take in the glow of the tree before Dean leaned forward and began to blow out the candles. Cas released him reluctantly and banked the fire, and as the room dulled to a low glow, they went quietly to their room, not wanting to wake the children. Castiel drew Dean close, tenderly pushing his shirt off his shoulders. 

They moved in tandem in the small space, until Dean lay Cas out on their bed. He kissed him thoroughly, sighing happily. “I love you so much,” he whispered. It surprised him, sometimes, how deeply he could feel for this man. For this life, with their pups, in the house they were making into their home. Dean lost himself in Cas’ touch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean shivered as he slid into his nightshirt. He slid back into bed as quickly as possible, chuckling quietly. “I always forget this part,” he murmured breathlessly.

Castiel chuckled as well, holding the blanket up so Dean could get in easily. “Good _night_ , Dean,” Cas murmured, sliding across the open space and pulling Dean into his arms. “And Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Cas,” Dean murmured, smiling a little. He rested his head on Cas’ shoulder, closing his eyes and drifting to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean woke early, before the sun was even rising in the sky. He carefully slid from between the sheets, shivering as he dressed. Cas remained asleep, thankfully; Dean wanted the chance to make breakfast before he was up. _The pie filling is ready; the ham is ready to bake..._ He ran the list through his mind as he pulled out the things for the dinner rolls, so they would have time to rise. He practically salivated at the thought of the rolls, baked with real, fine milled flour. There would be time for eating later, when the pups were up, but there were still so many things to get started on for dinner! As long as he could get Cas fed before he went out for chores, everything would be well.

Dean mixed the dough as quickly as possible, covering it with a cloth and setting it beside the oven to rise before starting on the dough for the pies. The sound of movement in the bedroom heralded Cas’ awakening, and Dean set the pie dough aside so he could pull out Cas’ breakfast. He was cracking the eggs into the pan on the stove when Cas appeared, yawning. “Merry Christmas, Dean,” he said, coming up behind his husband and hugging him around the waist.

“Merry Christmas,” Dean replied, turning his head for a kiss before he turned aside to flip the eggs. “I’ll be done with your breakfast soon. The pups will be asleep for a while yet; I thought we could finish up before they got up so that we could spend the day together.”

“Wonderful,” Cas agreed, squeezing Dean’s arm before filling the kettle from the basin by the sink and setting it by the fire to heat. “The chores today are minimal. Simply the animals needing to be fed, not much else." His heart swelled with joy as he watched his husband maneuver the kitchen. _How lucky am I?_ The house had been so dark and dreary just a few months past, and now Dean’s presence had warmed it again. He was startled out of his reverie as Dean set a plate in front of him, with potatoes, eggs and a piece of ham. 

“Merry Christmas,” He said, leaning over Cas’ shoulder to kiss his cheek. “I’m glad we get to spend some time together before the pups awaken.” He turned away as Cas cut into his ham, going back to start washing the vegetables. 

“Dean, come and eat,” Cas chided, frowning when Dean did not sit down with his own plate. 

“I will eat with the pups,” Dean said, shaking his head. “This will not be my usual Christmas dinner, but there are still many things to accomplish.” Truth be told, he did not miss the oysters or the rare fruits; neither of those were delicacies he longed for. _What I wouldn’t give for mama’s kitchen_ he thought amusedly. There simply was not enough space to do everything at once, as there was in her home. He finished mixing the pie dough and covered the bowl, sitting it by the window to chill. 

Castiel didn’t force the issue. He did not want to cause Dean unnecessary distress; he could see that he had many things on his mind. He chewed in silence for a moment, cleaning his plate before standing. “I will be as quick as I can outside,” he promised, carrying the dish to the basin and washing it quickly.

"Good." Dean relished the thought of a long day spent with Cas; it was so rare that his husband was able to take the time simply to stay with him. “By the time you come in, I am certain the pups will be up, and excited for their gifts.”

Castiel nodded, smiling. It was such a pretty picture, his Dean covered in flour, king of his domain as he prepared their Christmas dinner. “I will be back soon,” he said, tromping to the door and pulling on his coat, gloves and hat. Dean gave him a distracted wave as he stepped into the predawn cold.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time Claire began to fuss in the bedroom, Dean had prepared all three pies, and put the ham in to begin to roast. He reluctantly set aside the apples he was slicing in order to go and rescue her.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he said, bouncing her gently in his arms. He looked over at Ben’s bed, chuckling as the little boy’s eyes opened slowly. “Merry Christmas, Ben.”

At that, Ben’s eyes flew open. “Christmas?” He sat bolt upright, squirming out of bed to dart to Dean’s side. “Merry Christmas, Dee!” He clung to Dean’s leg, and Dean reached to ruffle his hair. “Where’s papa?”

“Oh, he’s just finishing up with the chores,” Dean assured him, carrying Claire to the little changing area. “Get your clothes on; it’s cold out. I don’t want you to catch a chill.”

Even though Ben looked as though he wanted to protest, he obediently went to the chair where he had laid out his clothes from the day before, and began to dress. Dean busied himself changing Claire’s diaper and her clothes, and by the time they were finishing, they heard the bang of the front door closing.

“Papa!” Ben squealed with joy, darting out with one sock on his foot and one in his hand. “Papa, papa, merry Christmas!”

“Ben, put on your other sock!” Dean called after him, scooping Claire into his arms and following the rambunctious boy into the living area. He found Cas twirling the boy in his arms. Dean smiled fondly at the sight. 

Cas set Ben down, cheeks flushed from the cold, and looked at him mock-sternly. “You heard Dee,” he said, eyes twinkling with mirth. “Go put your sock on before your toes get cold.” 

Ben giggled, nodding. “Yes, papa,” he agreed. He padded over to the chair, climbing up and pulling on his sock before hopping down. “Papa, did Father Christmas come?” He asked hopefully. 

Claire toddled over to his side, waving her hands gleefully. “Fa’ Cissmas!” She parroted, clapping. 

“Well, Ben, why don’t you and Claire go over and have a look?” Cas hung his coat on the hook and shed his boots, following the children deeper into the room. 

Dean joined them, the smile on his face only growing broader as the children approached the tree. His face was starting to hurt from all of the smiling, a fact which simply made him smile harder.

“Papa! Look!” Ben squealed with joy, picking up the two new horses and prancing them up and down the floor. “More horses!”

“Oh! Look how wonderful!” Castiel said, laughing. “And look, Claire!” He held up the rattler, and the little girl took it with an excited shout. A moment later the room was filled with the crackling sound of the seeds in the rattler moving around.

“Dee, look, look, Father Christmas brought me horses!” Ben ran up to Dean, who sat down on the floor so the boy could more easily run the horse up and down his leg.

“I see that, Ben!” Dean replied just as excitedly. The napkins could wait for the immediate fun of new toys passed, he was sure. “Have you looked in your stocking yet?” He laughed when the boy’s eyes grew even wider, and Ben turned immediately to Cas.

“Papa! Dee said Father Christmas put somethin’ in my _stocking_!” He looked pleadingly up at his father, who was holding Claire and tickling her belly while she swung her new rattler. “Please get it _down_?” 

The stockings in question hung near the fire, though not so close that the candy would have melted. Dean grinned as Cas pulled them off one by one, and handed one first to Ben, then to Dean. He and Claire joined them by the fire, and Ben upended his stocking onto the floor.

“Candies!” Ben squealed happily. He clapped his hands excitedly. Cas had put in a wooden top, as well, and a few pennies. Ben stacked them, still giggling. “Look, papa! A top!”

 

“Yes, I see that!” Cas agreed, grinning. He took it when Ben offered it, and he set it spinning. 

Dean smiled to see Ben’s excitement. They played for a little while, the three of them, lost in the joy of a family Christmas as the wind whistled outside. Claire’s rattler shook gaily, as she watched the top spinning from her position on Dean’s lap.

Finally, though, Dean kissed Claire’s temple before lifting her and setting her on Cas’ lap. “I am going to make breakfast for the pups,” he said, shifting with a groan. “Ben, would you like flapjacks?” He didn’t want anything too heavy, since they’d be eating such a large dinner, but he knew the pups were hungry.

“Yeah! F’apjack!” Ben clapped, and nodded up at Dean before going back to his toys.

“Do not forget to feed yourself, Dean,” Cas reminded him warmly. Knowing his husband, he would cook for the pups and forget to feed himself, which simply would not do.

Dean waved a hand over his shoulder absently as he began to pull out ingredients. “Of course, Cas,” he said absently, beginning to pour milk and flour into a bowl. He quickly began to mix up the flapjack batter, setting the cast iron pan on the stove to heat. Absently, he began to sing another Christmas carol as he poured the batter into the hot pan with a hiss.

He startled when Cas’ tenor joined him, off key but heartfelt, and together they sang ‘Silent Night’ while he cooked. By the time he had the plates together, Cas had the pups settled at the table. “Dee! F’apjacks!” Ben said eagerly, and grinned when Dean set the plate of flapjacks and ham, both cut small, in front of him.

Cas sat with Claire on his lap, smiling broadly. “You should sing more often, Dean,” he said as his husband set Claire’s plate in front of them. “You truly have a lovely voice.”

Dean flushed. “Thank you,” he said, though he truly did not agree. Sammy was the singer in their family, after Mary. “Now… I must begin to make the pies, so if you will excuse me…”

Cas’ hand shot out and he caught Dean’s wrist. “Dean,” he said, shaking his head. “You need to eat.” Worry colored his tone, and Dean paused. His stomach growled, and Dean flushed. “The pies can wait.”

“Yes, I suppose you are right.” Dean laughed, but let Cas pull him down for a kiss. They ignored Ben making a gagging noise as they pulled apart. “Very well, I will make myself something to eat.” He turned back to the stove, lifting his voice again as he poured more batter into the pan. It didn’t take long to fry more flapjacks, and this time he fixed himself a plate, and came to join his family. Ben was happily licking his fingers, grinning up at Dean as he started to eat.

“Merry Christmas, Dee!” He said cheerily, and Dean matched his smile.

“Merry Christmas, Ben.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Castiel spent the day reading to the pups, and playing with them with their new toys. Dean, for his part, grew a new appreciation for the size of their home. He remembered so many times that mama would disappear into the kitchen and miss out when grandmother would play the piano, or grandfather would tell a story. It was marvelous to be _present_ with his family, even as he pulled pies from the oven to cool, or stirred the mashed potatoes.

Music filled the air all day, as Dean gave in to Ben’s many requests that he ‘sing ‘gain, Dee! Sing ‘gain!’ And even Claire joined in with her discordant, joyful shouting. By supper both pups were clearly flagging, and Dean chuckled. _Early bedtime,_ he thought fondly. 

“Ben,” he called, and the little boy stopped galloping his horse across the floor. “Can you come and help me set the table, please?”

“Yes, Dee!” Ben stood up, and very carefully put his horse on the window sill before he joined Dean in the kitchen. His eyes widened as he passed the table. “Dee! Table so pretty!” 

Dean smiled, taking in the beautiful, embroidered table cloth.”Isn’t it, Ben? My mama sent it to us for our table.” Mary’s handiwork was a welcome touch of home in the midst of the more rustic decorations they had made locally. The fine linen had a silvery white border, edged in lilies; Dean’s favorite. The silver candlesticks Alpha Singer had sent as a wedding gift were glittering softly, the warm light in the center of the table welcoming each of them to the table. The tapers Cas had brought from his last trip into town, while not as majestic as his those that would grace his mother’s table, fit his table perfectly.

They carried the plates and bowls in together while Cas changed Claire, and by the time everyone was together, Dean had the food all ready. The ham shone faintly in the firelight, its honey glaze sweet, sticky, and perfect. The mince pies, fresh rolls, and even canned vegetables lining the counter weren’t what mama would have cooked. But the bounty of his new home filled Dean with a swell of pride, knowing how much of it he had grown with his own two hands. 

“Dean, you have outdone yourself,” Cas said as he settled Claire into her highchair. “What a wonderful, bountiful table.” He took in the abundance of food, and again, his heart swelled with gratefulness for his husband and all he did. He settled into his own chair, smiling across the table at Dean.

“Come,” Dean said. “Cas? Will you say our blessing?” He joined hands with Ben and Claire, who each joined hands with Cas, and his husband dropped his gaze to the table.

“Dear Lord, we thank you for the blessings you have laid upon our table tonight. We thank you for the food you have gifted to us, and we ask that you use it to strengthen our bodies to your will. Thank you for the gift of your Son, whose birth we celebrate on this Holy night.

Thank you for bringing our family together, Lord, and for warm hands and warm hearths. Thank you for Claire, and her sweet smile. Thank you for Ben, and his helping hands. And thank you, Lord, for Dean, and the great joy he has brought into our home. We ask that you use each of us to your glory. Amen.”

Dean smiled down at the table, gently squeezing the small hands in his own as he echoed the sentiment with a heart full to bursting. “Amen.”


	10. In Which Dean Has an Adventure and Cas Worries

**Chapter Ten: In Which Dean Has an Adventure and Castiel Worries**

  


_**March 14, 1894** _

_Dear Mama,_

_I must apologize for not writing again sooner; the winter weather has made it most difficult to post anything. Spring is upon us, but it is still quite cold. The snow has not yet melted, but we are beginning to prepare for planting anyway. I’ve already started to plan my plantings and Cas has helped me to increase the kitchen garden since my little harvest was so plentiful this past autumn. I’m still considering some additions to the usual carrots, cabbage, onions and peppers. The rosemary and tarragon seeds you sent have started to sprout nicely and will be ready to move into the garden soon._

_Did I tell you that Cas built me a seedling bed? I was able to put it by the window to take the winter sun and have used it very successfully to start all of the seeds you were kind enough to send and that I was able to order from our small general store._

_The calving season will begin soon also; Castiel says we will be quite busy. I look forward to it, it will be an interesting change of pace. And during the winter months, I hesitate to tell you, that I’ve grown even more muscular and can be a much greater help to my husband. I do not hesitate to tell you that he values and appreciates my help. He considers me an equal, mama. It’s what I hoped and prayed to have in my mate and now I have it. I’m so happy. I want you to know that and not worry. But, enough about that._

_The pups are what you really want to know about! Is it not the same with any grandmother? Little Claire is growing like a weed. She can toddle around quite well now, and she is into everything. She is so very smart, I wish you could see how quickly she solves problems. Oh, but when she is frustrated she has such a voice on her!_

_Ben is nearly four, and such a big help. He fetches and carries whatever he can, and picks up his toys with nary a complaint (most days, anyway). He is a help with his sister, as well. Often in the morning I hear him singing to her when she wakes fussing, to calm her until I arrive. Such a sweet boy, he is going to make a wonderful father one day._

_Tell Sammy I loved the story from his practice. I am so proud of how far he has come in the last year. I miss you all and wish you could come to see my home. Cas and I have discussed perhaps expanding its size, to give the pups each their own room, though that will depend on this coming harvest and how our beef fares at market. Even so, it is becoming more picturesque each day as the snow begins to melt, as though glittering with silver. The melt has brought the brooks alive, singing daily as they run past the pasture. The birds and animals, too, have begun to awaken. Each morning I am woken by God’s own symphony, chattering and singing songs I have never heard before. Truly I am blessed._

_Be safe, and I will write again soon._

_Your loving son,  
Dean _

"I'd like to go into town, we need flour and cornmeal," Dean said as Cas finished his breakfast. "And I need to see if there's another nipple for Claire. She’s almost off the bottle but not yet, and this one is wearing out."

Castiel nodded. "Well, I would happily take you into town, but Gabriel is coming to help me with those fences on the north field, before calving begins." He frowned regretfully. "Perhaps tomorrow?"

"Actually, I was thinking I could take the pups myself, and give them a bit of change of scenery. I should like to see Garth... I'm certain he is to pup, soon. If he hasn't already, that is." Dean scooped another bite of porridge into Claire’s mouth, opening his own mouth comically wide to encourage her to do the same. She giggled, opening so he could slide the bite between her lips. Normally, Dean would let her feed herself. But since he wanted to be on his way, he didn’t want her getting _too_ sticky.

"Oh, well, you should go as soon as possible; it looks very much like it will snow again.” Castiel glanced out the window uncertainly. “You will make it a quick trip, won’t you?” He turned his attention back to Dean. “I would not like you and the pups stranded if it should become a storm.”

Dean finished feeding Claire her oatmeal, grinning as she smacked her lips on the honey-sweetened mush. “Of course I will,” he agreed amiably, standing to get a damp cloth to clean up the pups. Ben was covered in his eggs and bacon grease, but seemed to be getting more into his mouth than on him, so Dean wasn't complaining. He slid back into his chair to start washing Claire’s hands and face.

Castiel dropped a kiss to Dean's lips as he passed toward the door. “I will hitch the horses up for you. Travel well.”

"Thank you," Dean agreed with a smile. "And we will. You be safe." He couldn't shake the idea that something might happen to Cas when he was out and alone, even though Cas was always careful.

His husband chuckled and smiled. "Of course, Dean… And you be careful, too." He pulled his hat onto his head and headed out into the rising sun to get started.

Dean finished cleaning up Ben and Claire, then settled them to play. He quickly tidied the kitchen, then packed the basket of things he inevitably needed when he and the pups went to town. He kept half an eye on the children, darting to catch Claire before she could get into his mostly empty container of cornmeal and redirecting Ben away from the front door. 

The winter had been long, and technically was not yet even over, but Dean was eager for a change. He loved Cas and their little home, but he was fighting cabin fever and urgently wished to see some of his friends in town. Setting the basket by the door, he bundled the pups as quickly as he could. “Alright, pups,” he said as he heard the jangling of the reins out front. “Let’s go. Your papa has our cart all ready!”

Cas opened the door a moment later. “Let me help you get them in the cart,” he scooped a squirming Ben into his arms. He carried the boy out, leaving Dean with Claire and the basket. Cas had heavily padded the back with hay and blankets, and set Ben down. “Now, you listen to Dee,” he ordered sternly. “And help your sister sit still.” 

“Yes, papa,” Ben agreed, crawling back until his back hit the seat. He patted the hay next to  
him and Dean set Claire down. The girl giggled, but joined Ben happily enough. Dean bundled the blankets around them, and turned to kiss Cas again. 

“We will return by sunset,” he promised as he pulled away and climbed up. “Or sooner, if it looks like snow.” 

Castiel didn’t speak, simply nodded, and waved to the pups as Dean started the horses with a shout and a crack of the whip. 

The trip passed mostly in silence. A few glances back showed that the two children had dozed off fairly early on. Dean chuckled; no matter how early in the day, the pups simply could _not_ keep their eyes open when they were in the cart! He didn’t mind, of course; it removed one more concern, that they might be climbing around in the back. Part way down the path, he waved as Gabriel passed him on his prancing steed. Pleased that his brother-in-law would be assisting his husband, he relaxed into the joy of the drive until they made it into town. 

They pulled up in front of the inn and Dean glanced back at the sleeping pups. "Look, Ben, we're here!" Dean smiled at the boy, sliding out of the cart and hitching the horses to a post out front. “Ben,” he sing-songed again, reaching to wake him. Ben blinked sleepily, but let Dean help him from the cart before he retrieved Claire and the basket.

Anna was in the main room when they walked in, dusting the fireplace. She looked up at the sound of their footsteps, and Ben, more awake from the walk in the cold, squealed at the sight of her. "Aunnie Anna!" He shouted, running forward and hugging her legs tightly.

She smiled, bending down to hug him and then Claire, who had squirmed until Dean put her down so she could follow her big brother. Anna scooped her up and then crossed the room to pull Dean, into a one armed hug. "I wasn't expecting to see you for another week at least," she said as she pulled back.

"Yes, I know." Dean shrugged ruefully. "We're running a bit low on some things. We hoped to miss the snow that looks like it's rolling in. Do you think you could watch the pups for a short while?"

"Of course. You know I love to have them... My pups will be thrilled too. They've missed their cousins." She chuckled and kissed the top of Claire's head before setting the squirming girl down. "Go on and get your shopping done. If you are finished before dark, you can eat supper here before you go home.” 

“That sounds wonderful,” Dean agreed, handing Anna the basket of the pup’s things. “Of course. I intend to visit Garth, as well… He has not pupped yet, has he?” He smiled. It was somewhat surprising, even to him, that he had become so friendly with the other Omega. He hadn’t expected enjoy the company of someone like Garth, whose bubbly personality often seemed so contrary to his own steady sensibility. But they had become fast friends, and Dean sought him out each time they came into town. 

“No, though really, any day now.” Anna smiled. “I agree, he would welcome a visit. He has not been out and about the last few weeks. It is much too difficult for him to make it through the slush.”

“I can imagine. Well then, if you truly do not mind the pups, I will go. After all, the sooner I go, the sooner I can return.” He bent to give Ben a kiss on the forehead. “Listen to Auntie Anna,” he said earnestly. “I’ll be back very soon.”

Ben squirmed away and giggled. “Bye, Dee,” he said darting away and heading for the stairs. Anna rolled her eyes and smiled.

“Go on you, get out of here. I will see you back here for supper before you leave.” Her tone really brooked no arguments, but Dean would never argue with that. Anna was a fantastic cook.

Dean nodded. “Yes ma’am,” he agreed, pressing a kiss to her cheek before heading out to the cart. He completed their shopping relatively quickly, only staying to chat with Ellen for a few minutes before he headed to Garth’s. He smiled in anticipation as he slid out of the cart, tying the horses to the hitching post. Garth answered the door after the first knock and his face lit up.

“Dean! What a surprise!” He waddled backwards, rubbing his back as he made way for Dean to come in. “How are you?”

“Fine, fine… Ready to get off the farm for a little while.” He paused on the stoop. “Are you up for a visit? I thought I might put my team in your stable and stay for a while.”

“Certainly!” Garth hugged him awkwardly, then stepped back. “It’s just around the back. I’d offer to help, but…” He gestured to his expansive belly with a sheepish chuckle.

“No, no need!” Dean turned to the horses. “I will be just a moment.” He jogged back to the cart, and took the team along the slushy path between the houses to Garth’s stable. The horses seemed grateful to be released as they trotted into the warm stall. Dean gave them each a quick rub down and a blanket, checking that there was water and hay before going back up to the house.

Garth waited with an open door and Dean stepped inside gratefully. He followed Garth deeper into the house, whistling lowly as his friend awkwardly pushed the door shut behind them. “You look about ready to pup,” he commented, crossing his hands behind him so he wouldn’t do something so uncouth as to reach out and put his hand on his friend’s swollen belly.

Garth just laughed, letting his hand rest on his abdomen above the flowing shirt he wore. “Yes, this little girl needs to show her face already,” he agreed. “I can hardly wait for her to stop waltzing inside. I’d appreciate not having to use the privy every ten minutes.” He held out his hand for Dean’s coat, hanging it from a rack to dry as soon as Dean gave it to him.

Dean chuckled, following as Garth drew him into the parlor so they could sit down. “I can imagine.” He settled on the chair Garth indicated, crossing his feet delicately in front of him. Something about Naomi’s house always brought out his best manners; Garth was the kind of Omega that Mary had dreamed he would be. Always friendly, dedicated to his housework, with a deft hand both in the kitchen and with a needle.

“Can I get you anything, Dean? Tea? A snack?” Dean shook his head at the offer and indicated that his host should sit.

“No, no, sit down Garth. I promise, I am quite fine.” He smiled a little bit as his friend obeyed without question, groaning and settling onto the chair opposite. “So, you seem quite certain that your pup will be a girl.”

“First borns in my family are always girls,” Garth explained, rubbing his swollen stomach. “For four generations. If this little pup isn’t a girl, I’ll eat my hat.” He grinned broadly and patted his stomach gently. “If she would just show her face and prove me right, I would be a very happy papa.” He leaned back, letting the chair take more of the strain off of his back. “What about you, Dean? Any new little Novaks on the horizon?”

Dean flushed at the sensitive topic, but he couldn’t hold Garth responsible for that. After all, it wasn’t as though it was something he talked about at the quilting bees. Garth was his best friend, though, so instead of answering with a simple ‘no’, he forced himself to meet his friend’s earnest gaze. “That is… Unlikely,” he admitted. He shrugged a little bit, trying to force a smile onto his face. “A bout with the mumps when I was young ended that particular dream.” He shrugged, as though it meant little to him. He’d had a lot of practice hiding how much that particular admission hurt. “I am most blessed to be father to Cas’ two pups, it wouldn’t do to mourn the loss of what will never be.”

Garth didn’t appear to be fooled. “Oh, Dean.” He stood awkwardly, crossing to Dean’s chair. He never seemed to care that Dean was not much of a tactile person. Garth showed affection through hugs and shoulder clasps, and was stingy with neither. “I am so sorry to hear that.” He wrapped an arm around Dean’s shoulders, hugging him close. Dean fought the urge to pull away, reminding himself that Garth simply hadn’t known. “Come on, let’s go make some tea. I have some pumpkin bread in the kitchen I think you will love.”

Dean was grateful for the change of topic, even though he’d assured his friend he wasn’t hungry. They went into the kitchen, Dean following sedately at the pace Garth was setting. They settled at the table a few minutes later, Garth filling a teapot from the kettle by the fire and setting out a loaf of pumpkin bread. Immediately, he began to cut, serving them each a generous piece.

“This bread is… Oh.” He grimaced, putting a hand on his stomach.

“You alright?” Dean was very concerned, but Garth waved him away.

“Fine, fine,” he said, a small smile on his lips. “This babe is simply making herself known.” He chuckled as he settled on a chair and poured them some tea. “Oh… There she is again.” He was flushed, and took a deep breath. “No, no… Don’t get up, Dean, I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” Dean said, concerned. “Your face is quite pale… Perhaps you should lie down.” His own troubles he put aside in concern for his friend, which was quite a welcome distraction.

“Dean, I am quite alright. This is early stages only,” he sipped his tea, setting the cup down with shaking hands. “Now do try the pumpkin bread…” He smiled and picked off a corner of his own piece, chewing and swallowing slowly. “Mm…”

Reluctantly, Dean subsided, watching his friend warily. “It is good,” he said, after a moment. “You will have to share the recipe. Cas would enjoy this, and we had quite a large harvest this year. I have a few left.” He settled in, nibbling at his bread, determined to enjoy his time with his friend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Gabriel! Hello!”

Castiel waved from the door of the barn as he heard Gabriel’s horse. His brother dismounted and led the horse inside, shaking mud off of his boots as he squished through the path.

“Hello, Cassie… I saw Dean and the pups on the path in.” He chuckled as he led his horse into a stall and began to untack him. “They looked well.”

“Yes… I believe Dean was becoming a bit… Stir crazy. So he elected to take the pups into town to get a few things.” He went back to the closet, beginning to pull out more tools. “He should be back a little after supper.”

“Very good, very good.” Gabriel nodded, coming out of the stall and latching it closed. His horse whinnied happily as Gabriel passed her a piece of dried apple before wiping his hands on his pants. “Right, the fences, yeah?” He headed past Castiel to the pile of tools, starting to load his belt. 

Castiel frowned. “Gabriel… Is something wrong?” Gabriel was a hard worker, but he was not usually this… excited to begin their work. “Is it Kali?”

“Nothing is wrong,” Gabriel said stubbornly. “I simply want to get this business done. It looks like snow, and we do not want to be out in that.” He filled his tool belt with a hammer, a pouch of nails, and whatever else he could reach.

“Gabriel, that is a wrench,” Cas pointed out mildly. “Are you certain that you are alright?” He crossed to his brother’s side, reaching to take the offending tool out of his hand.

“I’m fine,” Gabriel said, sighing. “I just… would rather not talk about it right this moment. Can we just work?”

Cas looked Gabriel over critically, but finally nodded. “Very well. For now, let’s get to work.” He gathered his own tools, and let Gabriel lead the way out of the barn. The section they were going to repair was not far off, which was good, but it was still a few minutes hike out. It was an unusually silent walk, only encouraging Cas’ concern for his brother.

“Mother seems to have finally warmed to Dean,” he said after a few minutes, attempting to break the silence with a more neutral topic. He glanced at Gabriel out of the corner of his eye, and his brother shrugged once.

“How could she not? He is an ideal omega for you. Strong, intelligent, a good father.” Gabriel’s smile was not as bright as it often was. “Your mate is a good man, Cas.”

Castiel sighed softly. _So much for conversation…_ He thought. “Yes,” he agreed mildly. “He is.” He pulled out his hammer as they reached the first section of broken fence. Gabriel hoisted the fallen cross piece and Cas began to hammer nails to connect it together. It was unlike Gabriel to work in silence, and Castiel found it galling, but conversation had never been his strong suit. He was not sure how to fix this problem. 

“So how does Kali fare?” Cas asked after they had been working a few hours. “I have not seen her since the holidays.”

Gabriel looked up at him, frowning. “You do not give up, do you brother?” He sighed, hefting one of the beams so he could slide it back into place. “Very well.” He pulled out his hammer, nailing the and Cas held the nail in place as he banged it in. “I want to ask for her hand, but her father is not interested in allowing me to court her without a more secure position than simply helping the family.”

“I see.” Castiel understood that feeling; he had been well established on his ranch before he ever considered asking for Amelia’s hand, but he had been concerned about her mother nevertheless. “You do not feel that he will find you worthy?”

“No.” Gabriel’s voice was flat, as it never was. “And I do wish to have her hand.” He glanced at Cas, then began to hammer a nail into the rail. “Do you think I could make it as a rancher?”

The question caught Cas off guard. Was Gabriel asking what he thought he was asking? “A rancher? I had not considered it. But you certainly have been a great help to me.” He smiled at his brother and offered him another nail. “You have the determination to do whatever you put your mind to.”

“Thank you, Cassie.” Gabriel flashed his brother a grin. They hammered the last nail in as the wind picked up, howling. “Brr.. I say, let us find a cup of tea, perhaps?” 

Gabriel’s tone was jovial again, much more like himself, and Cas felt an answering grin on his own face. “That sounds like exactly the right idea,” he agreed. “Come, let us find something to warm ourselves with.”

They made quick work of putting away the tools, but by the time they were crossing to the house, snow was falling. Once inside the house, Cas set a kettle to boil. “I believe there is some ham left from last night, if you are hungry?”

“When have you ever known me to turn down food?” Gabriel sat down next to the fire, wiggling his stocking clad toes in front of the flames to warm them. “I would love something to eat.”

Castiel chuckled, and busied himself slicing ham and a piece of cornbread for each of them. He set the table simply with the plates and a fresh teapot, pouring each of them a mug to warm their hands. He watched the snow falling, shaking his head. Already it was much worse than it had been when they came inside. “I hope Dean is safe. He was going to visit at Garth’s,” he said, turning to pick up his cup of tea. “And was leaving the pups with Anna. This storm rolled in much too quickly for comfort.”

Gabriel nodded. “Yes... We can hope that it blows off soon. But Dean is sensible; surely he would not have left town if it looked as though it was going to snow.” He nudged Cas’ plate toward him. “But for now, you should eat.” He leaned back in his chair and took a bite of his own ham. "So... Do you think you might be willing to let Kali and me homestead and share some ranching?"

Castiel smiled, knowing the town would only hold Gabriel's attention for so long. "Of course. It would be nice to share some of the duties, and with two of us there all of the time, we will be able to manage a much larger area of land." He chuckled. "And I am certain Dean would appreciate getting to spend time with someone other than me from time to time."

"Good!" Gabriel grinned. His mood was much improved now that he had a plan. "When the weather breaks, I'll start plans for the house... I'd like to ask for Kali's hand by the fall."

"That sounds wonderful," Cas agreed, taking a bite of ham. "I will be happy to assist you in any way that I can." Truth be told, he had been lonely at times, with the rest of his family all in the town. Dean was wonderful, but he missed his siblings. “I look forward to having you close by.”

"Well in that case..." Gabriel's eyes took on that dangerous glint that Cas remembered all too well from their childhood. It had gotten him in trouble more times than he could count. "I need to come up with the perfect way to propose to Kali." He scored a big bite of ham, talking through his mouthful. He always _did_ have terrible manners. "Can you help me?"

"Manners, Gabriel," Castiel chided mildly. "And don't you think we ought to wait until you are actually ready to propose?" Still, the wind was howling outside, so he leaned back and watched his brother.

"Oh, don't be such a stick in the mud, brother of mine!" Gabriel could see that he'd won, because he swallowed his bite and grinned broadly. "So here's what I was thinking..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That wind truly is howling out there,” Dean said, looking out the window. “The snow is… It’s coming down so fast. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a storm come in so quickly. I thought for sure we had a few more hours.”

“Oh, that’s life on the plains, Dean,” Garth said with a shrug. “Get used to things not going as planned.” He chuckled wryly. “Never thought I’d say that I’d hope this little girl hangs on a few more hours, but at this rate, Naomi will never make it across town.” He shook his head. “But often a storm like this passes quickly, so it will be a case of wait and see.”

Dean nodded. “I suppose that is true,” he said as he broke off a piece of his bread. “So… Did you ever finish piecing that quilt you started last month?”

“Oh, not yet.” Garth nibbled on a bit more of his pumpkin bread, though Dean could see he really wasn’t eating much. “I keep sitting down to work and this little one reminds me that I need the privy.” He laughed warmly, cutting off abruptly with a wince. “Oh. That was a sharp one.”

“Should I go and fetch Naomi?” Even though Alphas weren’t traditionally present for the birth, Dean had noticed things worked a little bit different out here than he was used to. Garth was much more present in company, for example, than most bearing Omegas that he had known. “Or the midwife?”

Garth scoffed. “Don’t be foolish, Dean. You certainly cannot go out in such weather. Just… walk with me.” He stood and held out a hand imperiously. Dean didn’t hesitate to obey, standing and offering his arm. Garth led the way, pacing steadily in front of the fire. Dean kept his worried silence, until Garth started up with an anecdote Dean hadn’t heard, about the inn and some patrons who had tried to give Anna a hard time.

The sun was going down by the time Garth’s breathing had grown more labored and his pace had slowed considerably. Dean had grown quite concerned, because the storm had not yet abated. In fact, it was worse than it had been before. Garth was clutching Dean’s arm fiercely.

“Dean,” he said finally. “I am quite sorry, but I believe you are going to have to help me with her.”

“What?” Dean’s face paled. “Garth, I… You know I am most happy to assist, but… I fear this is beyond my skills. I can go and fetch the midwife.”

“In this weather?” Garth’s scorn was evident on his face. “Certainly not. I would not have you perish in this storm. There have been stories of men being lost mere feet from their door in storms as bad as this. You wouldn’t make it to the street!” He shook his head, drawing Dean toward the bedroom on shaky legs. “Come, come. I have faith in you.” He smiled gamely. “Help me to change. It will be some time yet, I think, but I feel the opening. She is coming. After I have changed, you can tell me of New York.”

Dean obeyed, heart pounding as he followed. _Please,_ he prayed desperately. _Let everything go right..._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I need to go after them,” Cas said, as the storm howled more loudly around the little house. “Gabriel, come help me with the horses.” He started for the door, and had to restrain a snarl when he found his brother blocking the door.

“No, Cas, you don’t.” Gabriel shook his head. “You would never make it to the road in this! It would not be safe.” Despite how concerned he was for his brother-in-law, Gabriel knew that there was no safety to be found now for Cas running out into the storm.

“Gabriel.” Cas narrowed his eyes dangerously. “Get out of my way!” He hunched his shoulders, as though ready to charge, but Gabriel stepped into his space. His mate and pups were out in that storm!

“Cas!” Gabriel snapped sharply. “Get a hold of yourself! Your Dean is a very smart man! He would not risk Ben and Claire.” He shook his head. “At the first sign of snow, you know he would have turned back to the inn. I know it has been a long day, but he will be fine.”

It took a long moment for Cas to settle himself, but finally he drew in one breath, letting it out with a sigh. Gabriel didn’t step back from the door until Cas resumed his pacing before the fire. “What if he didn’t? Gabriel, what if they are out in that storm, alone?”

“You gave them blankets, did you not? And hay?” He waited for Cas to nod tightly. “Then they would be fine. You know Dean would find a way to keep them warm.” They both knew how difficult it would be for Dean and two pups out in such a storm, but there was no use adding fuel to the flame of Cas’ worry. “When the storm has died down, I will ride out with you to find them, but not before then.”

Reluctantly, Cas settled by the fire again. “As you say,” he agreed, though his eyes kept darting to the windows. 

“Come.” Gabriel reached into his shirt pocket and came up with a deck of cards. “Let’s play and take your mind off of things.”

Cas sighed once. “I suppose something is better than nothing to pass the time,” he said bitterly. Every inch of him longed to be out finding Dean, but Gabriel was right. In such a storm, there was little chance of doing anything to help them until it died away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean's heart raced as Garth began to show signs of stress. "Garth. Please let me go get the midwife." The storm was blowing even more strongly the closer they got to sunset, but Garth's labor was progressing despite that.

"Dean, there is no..." he stopped, panting for a moment. "No way I'm letting you out in that." He shook his head. "And anyway..." his breath caught again. "I think she's coming soon." A steady drip of fluid down his leg corroborated his statement.

The words galvanized Dean into action. "She's coming? Now? Right, yes, she's coming." He took a deep breath and blew it out. _This is no time to panic, Novak,_ he thought sternly to himself. "Right, Garth, let's get you to the birthing chair, and then I'll get the hot water."

Garth nodded, letting Dean lead him back to the bedroom. Dean forced his mind off his panic and into the plan. "Hot water and towels, and you can rest a little in the chair." He got Garth settled, and then turned back to the kitchen to fetch the towels warming by the fire and the pot of hot water. He set them by the door in Garth’s bedroom, pausing a moment to think.

He remembered what he'd heard at the quilting bees, that Garth had to be soft and open before he started to push, or the babe could be stuck. "I need to see if you're open," he said, more confident now that he had a plan. He washed his hands in the basin and knelt by Garth’s chair. His friend’s face was alarmingly red and sweaty. 

“Yes,” Garth agreed breathlessly. He let Dean maneuver him as necessary, and Dean did his best assessment.

“You appear to be growing soft,” he reported after a moment’s consideration. “And your canal appears to be completely open.” He stood and went to wash his hands again. Garth levered himself to his feet. 

“I thought you said she was coming?” Dean’s eyes widened in alarm, but Garth waved him off. 

“She is,” he assured him. “She will be… But… I need to move.” He squeezed Dean’s arm again. “My water broke, but it could still be a good few hours yet. My mama was in labor seven hours after it broke with my sister.”

Dean’s chest loosened at that. _Right. There’s still time to figure this out… Or for the storm to pass. We can do this._ “Oh, in that case…” He gave Garth his arm and gestured to the hall. “We can walk a little ways.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time the storm settled, in the wee hours of the morning, Cas knew he was doing a poor job hiding his anxiety. His family scattered, even in places he trusted, made his Alpha instincts squirm. Dean especially, he worried for. Their bond was new and no matter how much Dean liked Garth, Castiel itched to have his mate and pups safe in his home and arms.

“We need to dig out the barn, and get to the horses.” He was bundling himself up as he spoke, already halfway to the door. "I need to find Dean."

Gabriel followed Cas to the door, for once not trying to hinder him. It had been a long night for both of them. "Of course. Be careful, Cas, it’s very slick," he said as he pulled the door open and let the early morning sun spill in. Snow was piled nearly two feet high, glistening wetly. He let out a low whistle. “This may be more difficult than I thought.”

Cas nodded grimly before he began to wade out into the snow. Gabriel followed suit a moment later, pulling the door closed behind him. They slogged through the waist high drifts until they reached the barn door. Between the two of them they managed to clear enough of a path that they could pull the door open. Cas worked in a determined silence, every movement calculated and intense. 

“We’ll find them, Cas,” Gabriel said soothingly as they finally made it to the horses, who were stamping nervously in their stalls. “I’m sure they’re safe at Anna’s. We’ll find them.”

Cas pulled down a saddle for Impala, his black mare, and set to work getting her ready to ride. There was nothing for him to say to that, and so he didn’t say a word.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The road was in even worse condition than the path to the barn had been. Drifts covered it oddly, making it difficult to tell whether the snow was two feet deep, or simply a few inches covering a frozen drift.

The horrible conditions meant slow going, taking their time to skirt around the worst of the drifts and search out a safe path for the horses. Every minute seemed to stretch for hours, and the trip took much longer than usual. Gabriel attempted a few conversation starters, but was met each time with Cas’ stony silence.

It was nearly noon by the time that the inn’s swinging sign came into view. Cas pushed the horses a little faster, wasting no time in sliding down and hitching the mare to the post in front. “Anna!” He called out as he pushed the door. “Dean?”

A moment later came the patter of little feet as Ben clattered down the hall. “Papa! Papa!” He flung himself at Cas’ legs, then pulled back shivering. “Papa, you wet!” He pulled a disapproving face. “Where Dee?”

“Hello, sweet boy,” Cas said, kneeling to scoop Ben into his comparatively much drier arms. His heart sank at the question. Dean wasn’t here? “Hmm? Oh…” He focused his attention on his son’s question. “He went to go see Uncle Garth,” he reminded him, praying it was true. 

Anna appeared in the hallway. “Oh, Cas… So good to see you.” She held Claire in her arms, and Cas relaxed fractionally. Both of his pups were safe. Now, he could focus on his mate. “Dean went to see Garth yesterday, early. The storm blew in so fast, I am certain he stayed there.” She put Claire down on the small pallet by the fire and stood tucking a stray hair back into its pin, “Garth is so heavy that I doubt he’d be able to do much to get them out.” She hustled to the kettle and poured two mugs of tea, “They would welcome another set of hands to dig the cart free, I’m sure.”

“Undoubtedly,” he agreed, taking a deep sip of the hot tea. But, that itch was back, and he turned to Gabriel. “I am going to get Dean. Thank you for… Keeping a clear head.” And for more than that, though he would not say it aloud. It would have been certain death to go out in the storm, they both knew that, and he was grateful Gabriel had not allowed it.

“Any time,” Gabriel said, clapping a hand on his shoulder warmly. “I am going to go and borrow a change of clothing from my brother-in-law, and warm up by the fire. Be careful out there.” He held out his arms to Ben, who climbed over willingly. “C’mon, little man. Come help me borrow something to wear from your Uncle Zachariah.”

“Bye, papa!” Ben waved as they headed for the steps. “Bring Dee! It _cold!_ ”

“It certainly is,” Cas responded, chuckling softly. “Dee and I will be back as soon as we can.” He gave Anna and Claire each a quick hug, and then walked back out into the cold. It took longer than he wanted for him to make it to Naomi and Garth’s, the tension building in his chest with each minute that passed without seeing any sign of his mate.

He tied the mare to the porch rail and fought his way up the steps. He knocked on the door stridently not at all sure what the origin of his sudden conviction was, but he _knew_ something was wrong. Garth didn't answer, and he knocked again. Finally, he couldn't hold back, and pushed the door open. "Dean! Garth!"

The first thing he noticed was the scent of blood, and a bolt of panic shot through him “ _Dean_!"

A wail cut through the air, and Cas started moving, only to find himself face to face with his husband. Dean, his sleeves rolled up, had blood on his hands nearly to his elbows. His shirt front was spattered as well. Castiel was growling before he realized it, but Dean held up his hands.

"Easy, Cas, easy," he said, stepping closer so Cas could nuzzle at his throat. "It's not mine. I'm fine." He waited calmly until Cas breathed a sigh of relaxation. "It's Garth..." He nodded down the hall. "He's... He's had his pup. Do you think you could go fetch Naomi?"

Cas blinked, as he realized the wail he'd heard had been a babe. The babe his husband obviously helped to birth, given the blood on his hands. “She’s not….” He cleared his throat, fighting down the urge to pin Dean down somewhere and wash the blood off of him. “Of course.” Every instinct told him he should be with Dean, protecting him, keeping him safe, but he knew that was not really what Dean needed right now. “It will take me an hour, likely, to get to the bar and back in this snow.”

“Good, good…” A small sound from the bedroom had Dean turning his head. “Yes. Go and get Naomi… We should be done here in an hour.” The hard part was over and cleanup was all that was left, thank God. He knew once he had the blood washed off, Cas would feel much better.

Cas hesitated a little more, until Dean gently, but firmly, guided him to the door. “Go get Naomi, Cas,” he said again, leaning up for a quick kiss. “We will be fine. And when you return, we can go home.”

“Of course, Dean.” His Omega made perfect sense. Even if everything in him told him not to leave while there was so much blood in the air. He let Dean urge him out the door, and waited until he heard the door close securely before he turned to go and get his sister.

He met her on the road, not quite halfway back to the house. Her blond hair, usually so thoroughly tamed, was blown about in the wind, and her eyes were a tad wild. Cas could relate. “Naomi!” He pulled Impala to a halt and slid down beside her. “Let me take you home.” Her skirts were sodden with snow, and could not be easy to move in. “Dean is with Garth I’ve just come from your house. Everything is well there. You have a new pup. Dean sent me to fetch you.”

A new urgency took her, and she swore even as she let him help her up into the saddle. “I told him I did not need to open the bar yesterday, but he would not hear of me staying home!” She swore again, and settled herself firmly in front of Cas placing her right leg over the pommel to seat more comfortably. “That man will be the death of me, I swear!”

“I understand the feeling,” Cas responded dryly as he swung up behind her and carefully turned the horse. He knew when he got her home, they would need to leave. No Alpha would be comfortable with another Alpha, even family, so close to a brand new pup in their den.

When they stopped in front of the house, Naomi practically jumped from Impala’s back in her exuberance. Cas followed a little more sedately, but still reached the house about the same time as she did, simply because of how much more difficult it was to slog through the snow in her skirt.

“We’re in the bedroom!” Dean called out, and Cas counted it a blessing that Naomi didn’t snarl at him immediately as they both headed through the house. Dean was perched on the edge of the bed, a tiny baby wrapped securely in a blanket in his arms.

Cas felt his breath catch at the pure longing painted on his husband’s face, and he bit his lip. They hadn’t talked about it, much, but he could see how Dean longed for a babe of his own.

Garth brightened when he saw them walk in. “Naomi! Cas!” He sat up a little higher, wincing a bit as he settled. “You two are a sight for sore eyes.” He opened his arms as Dean gently nosed the pup’s cheek and turned to carefully pass the baby over. “Thank you, Dean…”

Dean stood, getting out of the way as Naomi made a run for the bed. “Everyone,” Garth said, as she crawled up next to him, despite her wet skirts. “I would like to introduce you to our newest Novak… Deanna Grace.” He grinned at the look on Dean’s face. “And none of that, Dean… Without you, this could have ended very badly. Thank you. For everything.”

“Of course,” Dean said from the doorway, where he stood tucked against Cas’ side, his husband’s arms around his shoulders. He swallowed hard and smiled. “We are going to collect _our_ pups now… It’s past time for us to be getting home. Rest well, Garth, Naomi… Many blessings on your new pup.”

Garth smiled warmly. “I will, Dean… And you’d best be planning to come back in a few days… Every pup needs her God-Omega at her christening.”

Dean flushed deeply, but nodded. “I… Yes, of course. Thank you.”

A small warning growl from Naomi made Cas tighten his arms around his husband, nodding once to his sister. “We must take our leave,” he agreed. “And congratulations. We will see you soon.” He looked passed his sister toward Garth, “Rest well, papa.” He was gratified at the Omega’s beaming smile and ignored his sister’s second growl as he urged Dean out of the house and to Impala. Dean groaned as he realized how much work it was going to be to get the cart and the team free from the barn.

“I can manage,” Cas offered, but Dean waved him aside.

“Absolutely not,” he said. “Together. I know Garth and Naomi have a few shovels inside, I saw them.” He used his hands and feet to clear a small area so he could pull the door open enough to slide inside. 

He emerged a moment later with two shovels. “Get to it,” he said, pressing one into Cas’ hands before attacking the snow himself. “The sooner we start, the sooner we get home.”

“Yes, sir,” Cas laughed, just grateful to have his mate back by his side. They worked in tandem for a while, comfortable as always, until they cleared enough of a path to get the cart to the road. “Hopefully this will do… We may need to ride double and bring the pups back that way, and come back in a few days for the cart.”

Dean laughed tiredly. “That sounds wonderful,” he agreed. “Anything to get us home.” He shrugged as he ducked back into the barn to start hitching the horses to the cart so they could take it to the inn. “Whatever we do, we should do it quickly. I believe I could happily sleep for a week.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Castiel would never get over the sight of Dean holding a babe. At the christening, Dean had barely taken his eyes off of little Deanna, even when answering the priest’s questions. He’d cradled the girl close, rocking her softly and crooning to her when she began to fuss.

Garth had let Dean hold her through the small gathering after, and Dean had forgone his own food in order to relish attention on the little girl in his arms. Cas couldn’t miss the sorrow on his mate’s face when he finally passed the pup over to her papa again. His heart ached, and not just for Dean. For the both of them. He knew that Dean, as good of a father as he was for Ben and Claire, would be a wonderful father for any other pups they had. He ached for the loss of that, but Dean had been quite clear that his illness had ended any chance for their union producing a pup.

He hugged Dean close as they went to gather their two from the huddle of their cousins. “She is a beautiful babe,” he said, smiling. “And the border you put on her christening gown was lovely.’

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean said with a small chuckle. “She sure is pretty.” He didn’t say anything else until Ben came running up. “Papa! Papa Dee!” He threw his arms around Dean’s waist, not even noticing the surprise on his father’s face. Claire toddled up a moment later, grabbing Dean’s legs with her chubby arms. “Pa’ Dee!” She parroted gleefully.

Dean flushed, pleased surprise coloring his face. “Hello, pups,” he said, kneeling carefully to scoop them both into his arms. They squealed with pleasure when he spun them around once. “Are you two ready to go home?”

“Noo,” Ben said, clinging to Dean’s neck. “Papa Dee, we stay with Aunnie Anna? Pleaaase?”

Dean didn’t question his son’s new name for him, but he _did_ shake his head. “I’m afraid not, pups.” He spun them around once more. “Come on, we’ve got to get home before it’s too late! After all, the animals need their dinner,.” He kissed Claire on the forehead before letting Cas take her. “But you’re a big boy, aren’t you, Ben? You can help me feed the chickens.”

Ben heaved a sigh, but nodded. He _did_ like feeding the chickens. “Okay, Papa Dee,” he agreed, letting Dean carry him toward the cart. He waved goodbye to his cousins over his father’s shoulder until they climbed into the cart.

Dean settled both pups on his lap with a blanket around their shoulders and across their laps, and then Cas gave a ‘yah!’ to get the horses moving. “Papa Dee has a nice ring to it,” Cas said, glancing over at Ben. The little boy nodded eagerly.

“Yes! I was talkin’ to Adam, he says he have a papa an’ a mama, an’ Deanna has a papa an’ a mama, but I have two papas! But if I call you papa,” he looked up at Cas, “an’ you papa,” he looked up at Dean, “it is co’fused! So, I call you Papa Dee!” He beamed proudly up at Dean, and Dean smiled back.

“That was very clever, Ben,” he agreed. “You’re a very clever boy.” Ben snuggled back under Dean’s arm, pleased with the praise, and Dean smiled to himself. It would always hurt, that he’d never birth a pup, but he could no longer say he’d never have a pup of his own. He had two, and he couldn’t imagine life without them. 

_Thank you, Amelia,_ he thought as he hugged Ben close and kissed the top of his head. _I promise, I will take good care of your family._


	11. In Which Cas is Positive and Dean is Hopeful

**Chapter Eleven: In Which Castiel is Positive and Dean is Hopeful**

  


_**March 30, 1894** _

_Dear Mama,_

_This has been such an eventful month I feel that I need to write you again. Last week the pups and I went into town, as we were growing a bit stir crazy from all of the snow. While we were in town, I decided to visit my brother-in-law, Garth. He spent the winter waiting for his pup to arrive, and I was eager to see what had happened over the time that I was not able to make it to town._

_Whilst visiting, the weather took a drastic turn for the worse. That is not unusual here on the plains, for storms to blow out of a clear sky, but it was certainly frightening to be trapped! Luckily, the pups were visiting their Aunt Anna and were quite safe. Cas, unfortunately, was on the farm, with Gabriel. There is nothing quite as nerve-wracking as to know that your mate is in a dangerous situation and there is nothing to be done to help it._

_In any case, Garth and I were alone when the blizzard blew in. We decided to make the most of it, with tea and cakes, but mama, you will never believe it! His pup decided that was the day she wished to make her appearance! I have never known such a worrisome day as that! Unlucky us, the storm blew all day and night. It would have been sure suicide for anyone to try and cross town in such a mess. You could not see two inches past your nose! So Garth and I had to muddle through it alone._

_At the end of the day, everything worked out well. Garth bore a healthy little girl, and wouldn’t you know it, mama, he’s named her Deanna, after me! He has also asked me to be her God-Omega, a duty and a privilege I appreciate dearly. Cas and Naomi, Garth’s wife, made it home shortly after little Deanna was born, and Cas and I made our long and cold way back to our place. It has been such a busy few days, I can hardly believe it has not been more than two weeks since I wrote!_

_In any case, Claire is crying and I must see what she needs, before she wakes Ben from his nap. He has been unusually cranky the last few days; I hope he is not coming down with something, as he did last year._

_Much love from all of us here,_

_Your son, Dean._

“Papa Dee? What’s wrong?”

Ben’s voice broke through the confused wanderings of Dean’s mind, and he blinked once before he focused again. “Oh, nothing, little man.” He smiled, bending down to kiss his son’s forehead. “Papa Dee is just a little distracted today. Come on, you can help me in the garden while your sister naps.”

Ben clapped his hands excitedly. “Okay!” He darted for the back door, Dean following more sedately. “Papa Dee! I wanna pull the weeds! Can I?”

“Of course,” Dean said, chuckling. He felt the familiar itch under his skin. His Heat was due, and it was just a matter of time until Gabriel came to fetch the pups. Part of him looked forward to it, having never had a Heat that was even remotely enjoyable until he’d met Cas. But the greater part of him dreaded the aftermath. His body preparing for a babe it would never nurture left him feeling weak and sad.

He wasn’t sure when he would finally let go of that dream, birthing a pup. He was content with his family, he was, but that didn’t stop the ache when he thought about what he could never have. He’d always wanted a big family, and two pups wasn’t exactly that, though he would not complain.

“Alright, Ben,” Dean said, forcing his mind away from melancholy thoughts as he guided Ben over to their garden. “Let’s get started.”

Working with Ben was soothing. Dean didn't have to think very hard. It was easy to show his little helper where to pull the weeds and let him grab them. Dean helped with the more stubborn plants, and showed Ben how to prune off dead leaves from the vegetables.

Despite the easy, repetitive work, Dean felt himself growing antsy by the time they had finished the little plot nearest the house. A cursory sniff brought Cas' scent to his nose, and relief coursed through him. His Alpha was here. The scent was heightened by sweat, but tinged with soot, since Cas and Gabriel had been burning out one of the far pastures.

Dean ignored Gabriel, all his attention focused on Cas as his husband came around the corner of the house. Ben had no such compunctions, of course, dropping his weeding with a bright grin. “Papa! Unca Gabe!” He darted across the intervening space to grab around his father’s knees. “Papa, I’m helping!”

“I can see that.” Castiel smiled over the little boy’s head at Dean as he wandered over. “Why don’t you go inside and wash your hands? You’re going to go and see Aunt Anna for a few days and Uncle Gabriel is going to help you to pack.”

Ben squealed with pleasure for he loved getting to see his cousins. Obediently, he pulled away from Cas and grabbed Gabriel’s hand. “Come _on_ Unca Gabe! Come help me wash hands!”

Castiel chuckled as his irrepressible son pulled away, and then turned his attention to Dean. “Mm… You smell good.” Not quite full Heat yet, thank goodness. But enough that he could tell what was coming. He wrapped Dean in his arms, nuzzling close to scent him as deeply as possible.

“You too,” Dean agreed, relaxing into Cas’ embrace. “Ready for a few days to ourselves?” It was less enticing than it could have been since Dean knew there wouldn’t be much they could specifically remember. Heat was like that. But the vague memories of his last Heat, finally feeling fulfilled and cared for, well, Dean certainly couldn’t complain.

“Indeed.” Castiel grinned, kissing Dean’s temple gently. “Why don’t you go inside as well, and we can help get the children packed up. Would you like a bath tonight, before things get too… Intense? I could haul some water.”

The idea sounded magnificent, but Dean shook his head. What would the point be? They would only be getting sweaty and disgusting again much too soon. “No, thank you… Though, perhaps if you wanted to haul water now, and we can have a bath in three days…” He grinned. “That might be preferable.”

Castiel chuckled, and nodded. “I can manage that.” He kissed Dean’s lips, nuzzling in for a good whiff before he turned away. “You go and assist Gabriel with the pups.” He couldn’t resist capturing Dean’s lips in a real kiss, but pulled away before he could deepen it. “I will begin to haul the water.”

“Of course.” Dean reluctantly parted from Cas. As soon as his Alpha was out of his arms, the familiar itch was back. He wrinkled his nose and headed into the house, where Gabriel had begun to corral Ben’s things for his visit. The little boy had his favorite blanket and wooden top, and Claire’s clothes were already packed. Anna had her own diapers, thank goodness. Dean couldn’t imagine trying to get everything else packed _and_ a week’s worth of diapers.

“Oh, we’re just about ready, Dean,” Gabriel said, grinning. “We’ll be out of your hair and you and Cas can be as wild and free as you want.”

“Gabriel.” Dean pulled a face. “My _children_ are here… Can you please _attempt_ not to be so gauche?” He knew Ben and Claire were certainly too young to pick up on their uncle’s frankly inappropriate conversation topics. Gabriel seemed to sense Dean’s discomfort, though, and urged Ben toward the door.

“Come on, Ben,” he said, grinning. “Papa and Papa Dee need some grownup time.” He scooped up the bag of clothes. “Come help me carry this to the cart and I’ll come back for your sister.”

Ben nodded, and turned to Dean. “Papa Dee!” He ran over, hugging his knees tight. “See you soon? You comma ge’ me?”

“I don’t know yet, little man,” Dean said, kneeling to kiss Ben’s soft hair. “But don’t you worry. Uncle Gabe and Auntie Anna will take good care of you.” He hugged Ben once and then released him. “Go on with Uncle Gabe and I’ll get Sissy.” He smiled and straightened, watching Ben obediently dart out to where Gabriel was setting up his cart. He clambered up obediently, and then Dean turned away from the adorable sight to get Claire.

He gathered the sleeping pup into his arms, carrying her out to where Gabriel waited. “They’d best be in the same condition I passed them over in when I get them back,” he said sternly. He relented a little bit as Gabriel took Claire as tenderly as he would if she was one of his own.

“Of course, Dean,” he answered earnestly, serious for once in his life. Of course, that was ruined by the roguish grin that he flashed. “Now go on! Get inside! He flashed a devilish smile, “I could smell you all the way from the east paddock; go put my brother out of his misery.”

“Gabriel!” Dean straightened, disgusted. “You are _impossible_.” He shook his head, but nevertheless turned to go inside. Castiel was not yet back from toting water, and as he heard the cart pull away, the first wave of Heat crested over. There was something about passing off that responsibility that triggered it. He was safe now, the pups were safe, and his Mate was close.

When Cas came in with the next bucket of water, Dean followed him to the door. He could feel his Heat rising. He pressed Cas against the wall. “That’s enough,” he murmured, voice rough. “Come to the bedroom, Cas.”

Cas let himself be pushed, opening to the press of Dean’s lips against his own, simply bringing his hands up to stroke Dean’s back. When Dean pulled back, he smiled, nodding. “Of course,” he agreed mildly. “Perhaps you will allow me to help you to wash, Dean?” In many ways, this was his first Heat with Dean. His Rut, as enjoyable as it had ultimately been, had muddied his recall of the rise of Dean’s Heat, and the less he thought of that first, disastrous Heat, the better. He wanted all of it, now. He wanted to be able to taste, to know Dean, to begin to truly learn him, as he had known Amelia.

Dean’s eyes were half lidded, pupils blown wide with desire, but he nodded. “If you like,” he answered agreeably. He was not yet so lost to the Heat that he simply _needed_ , and so he allowed himself to be drawn to the bedroom. Castiel tenderly began to undress him, fingers skimming Dean’s skin wherever he could get away with it. Each time they touched, Dean shivered, but he didn’t interfere. He was content to allow Cas to lead, for now, knowing that soon he would take charge out of necessity.

They kept a basin of water in the bedroom, and Cas filled it from the pitcher after he set the last of Dean’s clothes aside. He knew the cool water would feel good on Dean’s skin, over-Heated as it was. Wringing out the cloth, he tenderly washed Dean. He started with his face, and did not stop until he’d rinsed the sweat and dirt from every inch of him. By the time he was done, the scent of Heat filled the small room, leaving him nearly dizzy with it.

Smirking slightly, Dean took the cloth. “My turn,” he said, setting it down and starting on the ties at Castiel’s throat. He was less cautious than Castiel, but no less gentle. When he knelt to assist Castiel in removing his boots, he licked his lips lasciviously, simply to see Castiel’s flush at the gesture. “You smell of soot, husband,” he said, straightening after they’d removed Castiel’s pants.

“Well,” Castiel managed, his voice a little tight. “We _were_ burning off the pasture, Dean,” he said as mildly as he could. Dean reached for the washcloth, his eyes never leaving Cas’. He managed to dunk it and wring it out, and then he stepped back into Cas’ space.

“We will need to rectify that,” Dean said, grinning as he started to wash the soot off. Starting at his face, he scrubbed every inch of Cas’ skin, thrilling at the way his husband trembled with the effort of staying still and letting Dean do as he wished. He perhaps lingered just a tad too long with his hand around Cas’ rapidly hardening cock, but soon he had the worst of the offending grime floating in the bowl and not on Cas’ skin. “There,” he said, satisfied, as he dropped the cloth back in the basin.

Cas smiled as he wrapped an arm around Dean’s waist. One hand slid down, teasing at Dean’s hole. “Mm… So slick for me, Dean.” He nibbled at his husband’s throat, relishing the way Dean tipped his head aside for him. He slid a finger inside, testing his openness, and bit down a bit harder.

“Damn it, Cas,” Dean groaned, arching back against his fingers. “Fuck me already!” He ground down, frustrated as Cas chuckled. He didn’t resist when Cas started to walk them backward toward the bed, and he fell down as soon as his knees touched.

“So eager,” Cas said, licking and suckling down Dean’s chest. “I’ve been waiting for this… I want to know what you taste like. You smell so sweet, Dean, like apple pie and cherry blossoms and _everything_ delicious…” He groaned and licked another broad strip up Dean’s collarbone. “Going to know every inch of you, Dean.”

Dean groaned as the Heat built under his skin. Cas’ scent was dizzying, heady and heavy, like woodsmoke and leather. “Yes, Cas, fuck…” He spread himself out further, letting Cas do what he wanted. When his Heat was upon him, he didn’t want anything but to be filled and to lose himself in the sensation. It was so freeing to have Cas in control. His mama, he was a bit ashamed to be thinking of her at this time, but she was right. There _was_ nothing like an Alpha while in Heat. “Cas, please, please…” He didn’t even care that he was begging, because a moment later, Cas was soothing him. He urged Dean up onto the bed, on his side, and Dean felt something solid pressing against his hole.

“Gonna fill you up,” Cas murmured lowly against his ear. “My sweet Omega. You’re so perfect for me, Dean. So good.” He pressed in and Dean keened at the hot slide of Cas’ cock as he stretched to accommodate it. “I love you so very much,” Cas mumbled, sighing. “So much…”

Dean thrust back, wanting _more, now, **full**_. Cas met his thrust with one of his own, and they fell into a rhythm. Dean didn’t even try to speak, just clutched at the blankets and rode it out. And then, there it was, pressure almost more than he could bear. He keened desperately as the knot pressed through his entrance, and after a few small thrusts, it locked them together. Dean groaned, white hot pleasure shot through him and he stroked his cock once, twice, and came. The knot pressed against that sweet spot inside, and Dean sobbed as the sensations continued, almost too much.

“Yes, Cas, yes,” he babbled, finally, grinding back as he felt Cas spurting inside of him, molten and perfect. Cas’ arms circled around him, tight, grounding, and Dean relaxed on the bed. The first wave of Heat was easing, and Dean dropped his head onto the pillow. “Love you, too,” he finally mumbled, chuckling softly. “Now...shh…” He let his eyes drift closed; the next wave would certainly be worse, and he knew they’d need their rest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean groaned as he slid back into the bath water. Cas was nestled behind him, cupping the warm water and letting it run down Dean’s back. “Mmm…” He tucked his nose against Dean’s collarbone. “You smell… different, Dean,” he said, lifting his hands to stroke down Dean’s shoulders, rubbing at the tense muscles there.

Dean chuckled. “‘Mm ‘course I do, Cas,” he said, lolling his head back his onto Cas’ shoulder. “M’ Heat’s over.” He groaned again when Cas dug his thumb into a tight knot, and he sighed as the pressure eased. “Always smell different after that.”

Castiel hummed noncommittally. It was different than that, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on _how_.Giving it up for the moment, he went back to bathing Dean, smiling as his husband eventually drifted off to a light doze. By the time Cas was done, the water was cooling and he reluctantly woke Dean. He bundled his sleepy husband into a warm night shirt and back into the bed before going in search of food.

The rumble of the cart outside had him chuckling. Gabriel always did have impeccable timing. Cas opened the door to find a little boy holding a basket almost as large as he was. “Papa! Papa!” Ben squealed in pleasure. “Aunnie Anna sent supper! She say Papa Dee woo’ feel better… Is Papa Dee sick?”

Cas reached for the basket so that Ben could come in, and he shook his head. “No, Ben, he isn’t sick. He just isn’t feeling like himself, that’s all.”

Ben nodded seriously. “I’m gonna give’im a kiss t’feel better!” He announced, and darted down the hallway. Cas made an abortive movement to stop him, but the little boy was already gone. He sighed. Dean was tired, but he never seemed to mind indulging Ben or Claire, so he figured it would be alright.

Gabriel appeared a moment later, Claire held in his arms. “Hello, little brother,” he said, passing the squirmy little girl over. “Sorry to bring the pups back so soon. I wanted to give you an extra day, but a stagecoach came in and Anna’s full up at the inn.”

“It is quite alright,” Cas said, settling Claire on his hip and carrying the basket to the table. “Will you stay for supper?”

“No, I don’t think so. I should head back, in case they need help. Thank you kindly for the offer.” He nodded to the basket. “Anna sent chicken and dumplings, and more of her tea.”

“That sounds wonderful.” Dean’s sleepy voice joined the conversation, and Cas had to smile at the sight of his rumpled husband, holding their son so tenderly. “Give Anna my sincerest thanks.”

“Papa.” Ben’s little voice was worried, cutting across any answer that Gabriel would have given. “Papa Dee _sick_! He smell funny.”

Dean chuckled. “I tried to tell him it’s just because my body has been busy the last few days, but he’s convinced.” He bounced Ben gently on his hip. “I promise, little man, I am _fine_.” He looked up to find both Novak men staring at him. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“I believe I mentioned earlier that I thought your scent had changed, Dean…* I simply cannot put my finger on _how_.”

“I can.” Gabriel grinned broadly. “Dean, you smell like _Garth_ did… I think congratulations are in order. You’re pregnant!”

Dean shook his head. “No… I cannot _get_ pregnant, Gabe,” he said setting Ben down as the little boy began to squirm. He ran off to his toys as soon as his feet hit the floor. “It is sure to be something else.”

“Dean,” Cas said, stepping closer, a bright smile on his face. “That _is_ how you smell. And your Heat was fairly short this time.” He glanced at Gabriel. “We had nearly a full day before you arrived with the pups.” He turned back to Dean, and drew his husband into his arms. “Dean, we are going to be _parents_ again!”

Though he was fairly certain his heart had never beat so fast in his life, Dean couldn’t deny the rush of hope in his chest. “You really think so?”

“I do,” Cas agreed earnestly. He kissed Dean softly, and then pulled back. “Just you wait and see.”


	12. Epilogue: In Which the Happiness of Dean and Cas Increases

**Epilogue: In Which the Happiness of Dean and Castiel Increases**

  
The first cramps caught him by surprise; certainly his back hurt, his sides, his feet. The movement of his pup had left him restless the last two days, but this was thoroughly new. He’d woken restless to the sound of the wind howling outside. They had planned to go to town, where Dean and the pups could ride out the storm safe and warm, but the storm had rolled in sooner than expected.

Dean had puttered around the house most of the day, feeding the pups, doing light chores, refusing to let Cas pamper him. The storm hadn’t wavered since sun up, even as Dean’s labor proceeded apace. He paced back and forth, groaning. The sweat ran down his forehead, and he bit back another noise as yet another contraction hit. They’d warned him that first pups could do this, that the labor could last for hours, if not days, but he’d foolishly hoped that his wide gait would do him good. This was the fifth hour he’d been pacing, so clearly that was wrong.

“Papa Dee? Are you sick?” Ben’s little voice broke through, and Dean swallowed hard.The plan had been for the pups to go with Anna when the time came. He hadn’t planned on needing to parent while giving birth.

“No, little man,” Dean managed, taking another deep breath. “Your little brother or sister is coming, that’s all.” He forced a smile, holding out his hand to Ben. “Walk with me?” The walking helped, a little, but that didn’t mean that it was any less uncomfortable for his insides to be rearranging themselves. His birthing canal was opening, sore and tight, and he could only hope he opened far enough. Truth be told, he was terrified of birthing this pup here, where they truly hadn’t planned it. Only focusing on Ben’s little hand in his helped him to push the fear down as they paced the room together.

“Dean?” Castiel’s gravelly voice came from the area of the pup’s room, where he had been putting Claire down after dinner. “How are you feeling?”

Dean huffed out a little noise of discomfort. “Still waiting,” he said, his free hand rubbing his belly. He caught a deep breath when another contraction hit, releasing Ben’s hand so he didn’t squeeze him too tightly. “I was about to suggest Ben get ready for bed. After all, Father Christmas will be here soon.”

The little boy made a protesting sound, but Castiel fixed him with a look that had him releasing Dean’s shirt, where he’d grabbed when Dean let him go. “Goodnight, Papa Dee,” he said, sniffling a little bit.

Dean bent over, despite his discomfort, and pressed a kiss to Ben’s forehead. “Goodnight, pup,” he said. “In the morning, you’ll have a new little brother or sister,” he said, and stood up again. “Go on with papa, get some sleep.”

Ben pouted, but nodded, letting Cas take him to the bedroom. Freed from the need for a strong facade, Dean grimaced and resumed his waddling. At his largest, Garth hadn’t been this big, Dean was certain. Still, the contractions were fairly far apart, and he felt no urge yet to push.

Castiel returned, and approached Dean quietly. “Do you feel as though you could sit? Perhaps drink some broth? Anna assures me that it is most important that you continue to drink regularly.”

“No.” Dean felt he could be forgiven the terseness of his reply, given his discomfort. The mere idea of sitting while his body finished its rearranging was disturbing to say the least. “Walking feels better.”

Cas wrapped an arm around Dean’s waist, and he leaned against his husband gratefully. “Perhaps the storm will break soon,” Cas offered, though he seemed doubtful. “Anna did say she thought the pup would come some time this week, so she is ready.”

Dean shook his head. “Not drivin’ in this mess, Cas,” he said. “Couldn’t put you or the pups at risk. It’ll be fine. You’re here, I’m here…” He bit back another groan as another contraction hit. Breathing heavily, Dean panted out a few more breaths and forced a smile. “I think you should start heating up some water, though. Anna said we need hot water and rags.”

“Of course.” Castiel didn’t move, though, not until Dean pulled away and started pacing again. Cas watched him worriedly. Dean didn’t like to show discomfort; he would always prefer to deal with things on his own. Castiel knew better than to let him, though, especially now.

Dean rubbed his belly as he walked, humming the lullaby he always sang when he took his turn putting the pups to bed. “This pup can show their face any time,” he said after another contraction had passed.

Castiel chuckled. “Soon, I am certain.” He rejoined Dean, wrapping an arm around Dean’s waist and holding him close as they walked. He felt Dean’s back spasming under his hands, and he pressed his thumb into the base of Dean’s spine. Dean groaned and rolled his hips, letting Cas rub the knot out.

“Feels good,” Dean managed, starting to pace again after a few more minutes. They fell into a rhythm, pacing together until a contraction would hit, when Cas would rub Dean’s back until he was able to start walking again. Dean wasn’t sure how long they paced; as his labor progressed, he lost track of time. Breathe, pace, breathe, pace. He felt a slick rush between his legs as his water broke, and the speed of his labor increased.

“I believe you should lie down and let me check how far along you are,” Castiel urged Dean down the hall toward their room. Dean went, his steps slowing even more as stronger contractions gripped him. He was grateful he was already in his nightshirt as he allowed Cas to help him down.

He let Cas touch him with firm, but almost impersonal hands, gauging his openness as he would one of his cows as they calved. The thought should make him uncomfortable, but really, he was only distantly grateful that Cas was as experienced as he was. “You are softening effectively,” Cas announced a few moments later. “If your labor progresses at this rate, I would imagine our pup’s arrival sometime in the next few hours.”

Dean huffed out a laugh. “Great. Wonderful.” The next contraction that hit was almost enough to make him cry out, but he stifled it at the last minute. He didn’t want to risk waking the pups. Why hadn’t they left for town a day sooner? Dean forced himself to breathe again, and a moment later Cas was up by his head, rubbing his shoulders. “Shh… You are doing wonderfully, my Dean,” he soothed. “Doing so, so very well.”

That was not worthy of a response, and so Dean did not deign to dignify it with one. He let Castiel rub his shoulders, cool his sweating face with a damp cloth, and then something shifted inside. “Cas, the pup is coming.” He choked the warning out, even as he fisted his hands in the blanket. “Cas. Cas, get the water.” Now that it was happening, it was hard to push down the panic. Yes, he’d helped Garth with this very thing, but that was different! They had been in town, if something went wrong, he _could_ have gone looking for help.

“Alright Dean.” Cas’ voice was maddeningly calm as he stood to go and fetch the water that was heating by the stove, as well as the cloths and blankets they had prepared. By the time he was back, Dean had managed to get to his feet and cross the room to their birthing stool. He was breathing hard, but seemed more comfortable in the new position.

“This baby had better hurry up and get out here,” Dean mumbled, his voice breaking with the first contraction that took him. Castiel knelt with him, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Soon,” he promised, though the shaking of his hands showed how truly nervous he was. He rubbed up Dean’s spine firmly, and pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck. When Dean squirmed away, he stopped, flushing. “Sorry,” he soothed.

Dean didn’t answer, instead just clenching his fist against his thigh as another contraction hit. Breathing through it, he shifted positions a little. “Check, Cas,” he ordered tersely. “I need… I need to push.” He didn’t know how he knew, but the urge was so, _so_ strong. Castiel shifted obediently, carefully palpating Dean’s opening with his fingers.

“I believe it is safe for you to push. Whenever you feel the urge, Dean.”

Dean nodded, and as Cas repositioned himself, he pushed. Dean longed for Anna, and Garth; their birthing plan had been simple and safe, since both other Omegas had assisted with many more births. Now that he was alone with Cas, whose experience was limited to birthing cows and assisting with the very end of Garth’s birth, Dean was more than a little unsettled.  
“Very good, Dean, you are doing so well.” Dean tried to let himself float on Cas’ reassuring tones, but it was difficult. He breathed in as deeply as he dared and pushed again, groaning as the pressure inside him squeezed so… Differently.

Time passed in a haze of breathing and pushing, Cas’ voice the only constant. Finally, Cas’ voice changed. Excitement tinged it, as his reassurances stopped. “There it is, Dean! I see a head! Our baby is almost born. Just a few more good pushes, you are doing _so_ well.”

Dean was beyond words, and so did not even attempt to answer. He simply pushed, hard, when the next contraction hit. It was unimaginably big, and the tenderness of his newly opened birthing canal was magnified by the pressure the pup was putting on it. He spared a brief thought for the ether that Anna had at the hotel, intended to help him through the worst of the pains. But that had apparently been a pipe dream, and so he simply took another deep breath. “Almost there,” Cas said, and his hands were there, catching the babe, trying to position everything just right. “One more good push for me, Dean… Just one more.”

The next contraction hit and Dean obediently pushed hard, letting out a sobbing breath as the babe’s shoulders popped free. The burning pain subsided somewhat, and Cas was drawing the child out completely.

“You’ve done it, Dean,” Cas said, awe on his face as he quickly cleaned the child. He clamped the cord with a set of calving clamps, and cut the cord before wrapping the small, squalling body in a warm blanket. “Our babe is born.”

Dean took the child in his arms, uncaring that he knew there was still work to be done. “Hello, little one,” he said, breathing easy for just a few moments. “Happy Christmas.”

_**Christmas Day, 1894** _

_Dear Mama,_

_Happy Christmas! I know this will arrive quite late, and you will certainly have received my telegram long before this has reached your door, but I wished to be a bit more informative than a telegram allows. I am sorry for hiding this from you. I did not wish to tempt fate, should I share this joyous news before it were indeed a true thing. My news is thus, the union between Cas and I has borne fruit, and we are proud parents of a beautiful baby girl. Her name is Mary Amelia, and she is the most perfect babe I could imagine._

_As I write this, she slumbers in the cradle that her other papa built with his own hands. She sleeps well, and eats well, and has the most gorgeous green eyes. Castiel says she looks like me, though I do not see it. Her big brother and sister dote on her; I can see her becoming very spoiled should this continue._

_Mama, I am the happiest I have ever been. Though my decision to move here was a rather difficult one, I know now that I could never regret it. I want to thank you for all of your support; without you, I am not certain I could have made it here and had the courage to remain._

_I love you all, and pray that someday soon you will be blessed to meet your son-in-law and your grandpups. I miss you all so very much. Please convey to Jess and Sam my very best wishes for the happiest of Christmases, and tell Father that I pray things are going well for him._

_Much love to all of you,_

_Yours,_

_Dean, Castiel, Ben, Claire, and Mary_

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! I hope you have enjoyed my story!
> 
> Please, don't forget to check out the art by Uke Sama Sensei, at her LJ, http://uke-sama-sensei.livejournal.com/7501.html
> 
> And the rest of the big bangs at http://www.deancasbigbang.livejournal.com

**Author's Note:**

> You can find all the art for this fic at http://uke-sama-sensei.livejournal.com/7501.html
> 
> Please also check out the other big bang fics! There are a lot of them, and a lot of effort has gone into them by all the authors and artists! You can find them at http://deancasbigbang.livejournal.com/
> 
> Dare


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